Where The Cold Awaits
by ThatScreamingBread
Summary: Sarila is a young Nord woman who's been exposed to the deaths of her family at a young age. Separated from her last surviving friend, Ytri, Sarila finds an orphaned little girl, Lyvette, in the woods. When the dragons arise and her new friend, Valelia, is the only one who can stop them, will Sarila successfully raise the child unharmed...and encounter friends, new and old?
1. Separated

The cold winds of Skyrim gently caressed the oaken trees, which shook and whispered hollow words amongst each other. The occasional wolf or cave bear would come bounding through the forest in hopes of snagging a nice meal. Luna Moths flitted their glowing wings steadily as the luminous Torchbugs buzzed quietly.

It was an unusually calm day for Sarila and her good friend, Ytri. It would have been calmer if they had been able to survive without struggle. Ytri's bitter face turned to their hastily-constructed tent, and the dimming campfire. She sighed heavily with a frown and began to poke the flames with a large stick.

"This is absolutely pathetic. We'll never be able to cook or stay warm with these flames. At this rate, our meat will barely even be ready to eat for the New Life Festival next month." Ytri bitterly stated.

"You can have my rations today if you like." Sarila replied in an attempt to cheer her friend up.

"Sarila, you need to learn how to tend a fire properly. It's something both of us must be able to do if the other is unable to. You know how this works, but you haven't practiced enough." Ytri resisted Sarila's kindness. "I'm going to find something that will help our fire stay lit, while you tend to the flames." Ytri sourly stormed off further into the woodlands with leaves, twigs, and grass crunching beneath her boots.

Sarila was a Nord who was 17 years of age, and was shorter than most Nords, though still somewhat tall. She had hair the color of a Septim, and gorgeous, startlingly violet eyes unlike any other pair of eyes she'd ever seen. She had a large scar on her right cheek, one she had earned in a life-changing attack as a young girl. Sarila was very kind and was often optimistic, always trying to help others whenever she could. She often found herself getting lost in her thoughts, or 'dozing off' as her late mother had called it. She was easily distracted, but could keenly focus when she needed to. She also had a tendency to analyze things and create theories to explain people's personalities, different animals' behaviors, and so on. In fact, she often over-analyzed things, which was both a blessing and a curse.

Ytri, however, was a hardened woman, and was often very brooding and quiet. She was a woman somewhere in her early to mid thirties, and though Sarila had known her for ten years, she never asked nor was told the woman's age. Ytri's hair was the color of a young oak tree, and usually had to be kept in a messy ponytail. Her eyes were the color of a green apple, and she wore a reddish cloak that perfectly fit her tall, slender physique. Around her neck was the amulet of Talos she eternally cherished, her name carved into the jewelry. Though she didn't often show it, Ytri cared greatly for Sarila. The two were all they had left after everything else was taken from them, and as a result, they fended for themselves in the ominous forest.

Sarila, the curious soul she was, used to wonder why she and Ytri could never go into the cities like Markarth, Whiterun, Falkreath, or even Windhelm. All she remembered was that whenever they went into a city, it was peaceful. Whenever they left, Ytri ushered Sarila to wait at the stables while she stayed behind for an extra half an hour or so. Whenever Ytri emerged from the city, she was running, and her armor and blades were coated with layers of fresh blood.

Sarila got up from her space on the log she sat upon. Several droplets of rain dotted her cheek and face, and began to dim the campfire even more. She tossed a stick into the campfire to keep it going a bit longer. She searched for more stray firewood, but to no avail.

"I might have something I can burn in my backpack." Sarila quietly told herself. She unzipped her large, black backpack and began to root around. She found an old spell tome she had never really used. She flipped to find a page she could tear out and toss into the fire, but instead found a spell for Flames.

Sarila smiled, she had accomplished something today. She quickly memorized the spell and summoned a ball of fire in her hands. "How to do this…hmmm…" Sarila pushed her hands forward and received a jolt of resistance, throwing her to the ground. She immediately stood back up and aimed her hands at the campfire once more, and shoved her hands forward with great force, feeling the glowing embers flow from her veins into the fire. She slightly shuddered at the foreign feeling of magic, but smiled as the campfire roared to life.

She closed her palms and the flames in her hands dissipated. The campfire was now crackling and burning better than she had hoped. The rain could not take this away.

 _Grrrrrl…._

Sarila froze. She had heard a sound, a very unmistakable sound.

 _Grrrrrrrrrrrrrl…._

There it was again. Sarila grew frightened, and retrieved her trusty ebony dagger from her backpack. She put the backpack straps around her shoulders in case she needed to make a quick escape.

 _Grrrrrrrrrl….._

Sarila slowly approached the site of the sound. It was exactly what she was afraid of; an enormous cave bear right where any unlucky soul could see it. It sounded worked up about something. Sarila looked to where the bear was focused. Up on a very fragile tree branch was Ytri. Ytri had no weapon and no way to defend herself. The tree branch appeared to be extremely unstable, and looked as if it wouldn't last much longer.

Sarila now had a choice. Help Ytri and risk her own life in the process, or leave her only friend to die.

 _I have to help Ytri. I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for her. I need to act now._

Sarila approached the honey-loving beast and quietly unsheathed her ebony dagger. With a quick thrust, she made a large gash in the creature's leg. The cave bear snarled in pain and turned its attention to Sarila. "Sarila, run!" Ytri yelled out to her companion. Sarila turned and began to run, not turning back, even after she heard a large snapping sound and a thump on the forest floor. Sarila dashed through the forest until she realized the bear was no longer chasing her, and had instead probably moved on to attack Ytri.

 _Ytri! She could be in trouble! I have to go back and help her!_

Sarila sprinted back to their camp, but was stopped halfway there when she bumped into something. She opened her eyes and was face to face with a ravenous wolf. Behind it were four more wolves. _A full pack._

Sarila retreated back to where she came, but this time, she had taken a different route. Still being chased by the hungry wolf pack, she turned around to try and fight. She slowly backed up with each strike she made, only to fall into a river. The rampant currents roared as Sarila was swept away in the violent waters of Skyrim. She struggled to stay above the water, gasping for breath whenever she was tossed upwards. She had breathed in water by mistake whenever the unforgiving river had thrown her under again. All the young, helpless woman could muster were calls for help, coughs, and shrieks of terror as she went downstream, unknowing if it was her last day on Skyrim or not. Though the fear of death was agonizingly terrifying on its own, Sarila's heart practically constricted at the thought of losing the closest person she had to family, Ytri.


	2. All On My Own

Sarila was caught in the river current for ten minutes. She looked ahead and saw a fallen tree with a branch that she could reach. It could have been a weak branch, but she had no other choices. Sarila paddled closer to the tree and reached her hand up to grab the branch. She pulled herself up.

She still had her backpack firmly attached to her back, and her dagger was still in its sheathe. She had gotten very lucky.

"Y-Ytri? Ytri, are you t-there?" Sarila gasped between shivers. "Ytri? P-please answer me!" Sarila desperately shouted. The young Nord squeezed ice-cold water out of her shirt and hair. She rubbed her arms in an attempt to preserve body heat.

 _I sure wish I was still at that campfire…maybe I could make a new one?_

Sarila trudged towards a large tree. She ripped several chunks of loose bark from it and scoured the area for sticks, twigs, and anything that could burn. By the time the sun had set, she had only gathered twelve small sticks, which would not be enough to even start the smallest flame. Sarila began to fear having to climb the nearby mountain, the Throat of the World, to find more wood.

Sarila tiredly walked around the wilderness to search for more wood when something caught her eye. It looked as if it were a house. Next to the house was another, and another, and another. She recognized it to be a village.

 _Ytri told me to not get involved with civilization, especially after what happened last time…but this could be the difference between life and death for me._

Sarila reluctantly scurried closer to the village. A man in a metal helmet and purple armor with a bronze chest plate and fur boots approached her. In one hand, he held a purple shield with a painted motif of two swords, and in the other hand, he held a steel mace. "Um…h-hello sir. Where am I?" Sarila nervously asked. "You're in the town of Ivarstead. I'm one of the town guards, and I haven't seen you around these parts. Are you a traveler?" The Guard inquired. "I s-suppose you could c-call it that. I'm v-very c-cold and I'm looking for a p-place to stay." Sarila answered.

The guard straightened his helmet. "You might try the Vilemyr Inn. Wilhelm's got good food, strong drinks, and warm beds." The guard informed her, and pointed to the nearby building. "T-thank you k-kind sir. Have a g-good night!" Sarila scurried into the Inn.

"Gods, you look terrible!" Wilhelm, the barkeeper, shouted in shock. Sarila slowly walked up to the bar where Wilhelm worked. "How m-much is your Nord Mead?" Sarila asked. "I don't think you need to worry about payment. You look like you need a drink. Have one on the house." Wilhelm tossed the freezing Nord a bottle of Nord Mead.

Sarila uncorked the bottle and let the warm beverage slide down her throat. It had been _forever_ since she had a product made by man. She let the sweet strings of the bard's lute lull her and the warmth of the fireplace caress her as she savored her mead.

"I cannot thank you enough, sir. I'm very weary as well. Do you have an open room I may rent?" Sarila smiled to the kind bartender.

"Of course we do, miss. The one to your left is open for rent. Normally it costs ten Septims, but you look like you need it, so for you, it's only five." Wilhelm offered.

Sarila had found stray Septims with Ytri while in the wilderness, so she was able to pay for a room. "Let me show you to your room." Wilhelm motioned for the young woman to follow him. He stopped at a room with a bed covered in furs, a dresser, a table and chair, and a chest. "It's yours for a day." Wilhelm gave her a kind smile and returned to his bar.

Sarila slipped off her shoes and hopped into her nice, soft bed. The warm furs kept her comfortable and provided a feeling of security for the first time in ten years.

 _This is much better than sleeping outside, but I still can't help but worry about Ytri. Did she make it out okay? Did the bear and the wolves kill her?_

Sarila had her thoughts to keep her busy until she slowly drifted off to sleep.


	3. Run

Sarila's violet eyes fluttered open the next morning. She quickly put on her shoes and backpack. She turned to Wilhelm, who had just started working the bar for the day.

"I wanted to thank you for the kindness you have shown me. I have been in the wilderness for so many years…I never thought townsfolk would be so generous to someone like me." Sarila gave the bartender a genuinely glad smile.

"It's no trouble at all, milady. You have a good day now, and stay safe!" Wilhelm replied. "That's how I'm still alive." Sarila joked. She approached the Inn's door.

"Wait! Hold on a moment, milady." Wilhelm stopped the young Nord. Sarila turned around and faced Wilhelm. "If you don't mind me asking…why were you out in the wilderness?" Wilhelm inquired curiously. "I…it's…it's kind of a long story…I'll tell you someday when I'm ready. I…I'm still a bit sensitive about the topic." Sarila's beautiful eyes began to show sadness.

"It's fine, milady. I shouldn't have asked, please forgive me. You have a good rest of your day, now." Wilhelm bade her farewell with a friendly smile. Sarila opened the old wooden door with a loud creak and exited the Inn.

 _Okay. I can do this. I just need to find Ytri. She's out there somewhere. I know it. I can feel it. I just need to make a plan and stick to it. I'm staying away from cities, I'm DONE with cities._

Yesterday's misfortune was still fresh in the young Nord woman's mind. She wanted food, she wanted shelter, but more than anything, she wanted to find Ytri.

 _Wait a moment. I haven't the slightest idea of where we were! Were we near Riverwood…were we within the Whiterun boundary? Were we near the Treva River? Gods! I wish I had paid more attention!_

The indecisive Nord woman finally had her mind set on going Southeast, in the direction of the Treva River, Lake Honrich, and eventually the city of Riften. No matter what, she had promised herself that she would stay away from civilization. She set out to search the Southeast area of Skyrim, but little did she know that she was going opposite to where she had last seen Ytri.

Sarila had walked for two hours and was nearing Lake Honrich. She felt a hand roughly grasp her shoulder and she froze. "Alright, hand over your valuables, or I'll gut you like a fish." A rough, male voice commanded.

"I don't have anything! I've been out here in the wilderness for the past ten years!" Sarila frantically replied. She turned around to face her captor, an Argonian thief. "Really? There's no way you've made it out here on your own! Tell me where your friends are." The thief held his dagger close to her neck. "I'm by myself! I got separated from my friend and I don't know where she might be. She could be alive or dead, and I have no clue! Please just leave me alone!" Sarila panicked. "I think you're lying to me, little Nord." The thief angrily responded.

"I-I'm not! You have to believe me!" Sarila yelled. "I don't believe you, but my dagger does!" The thief thrust his dagger in Sarila's direction, but she had ducked, and his dagger got stuck in the tree behind her instead. "Gods! You can't be serious!" He growled.

While he was trying to pry his dagger out of the tree, Sarila ran for cover behind a large rock and crouched behind it. The Argonian had gotten his dagger free and began to search for Sarila. "Where are you, you little s'wit?!" He hissed. While his head was turned in the other direction, Sarila dashed out from behind the rock and dove into a hollow log. Unfortunately, the thief had seen her from the corner of his eye. "There you are!"

Sarila began to crawl through the log, but the Argonian pulled on her leg and dragged her out. He thrust his dagger towards Sarila's heart, but she rolled to the right and barely dodged the weapon. Sarila leapt up onto his back and gouged his left eye with her fingers.

"AAAAAAARRRRGH!" the thief yelled in pain as his left eye was crushed by the nimble Nord's fingers. Blood spurted from his eye as she dug her fingers deeper into his socket. The Argonian punched Sarila in the face, stunning her, and knocked her off his back. The infuriated thief clutched his eye and ran towards Sarila with his dagger. Sarila got back on her feet and sprinted to a nearby body of water in the forest.

 _Grrrrrrrrrrl…_

Sarila knew that sound.

 _Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrl…._

It seemed to be coming closer.

 _Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrl…._

Sarila heard the lumbering bear's paws pound the forest ground as it searched for its next unsuspecting meal.

Sarila quickly hatched a plan in her mind, and kept her eye on the thief who was charging towards her. She turned to her right and saw the furry honey-lover approaching. Sarila ran to her left and watched as the angry Argonian and the barbarous bear met.

"Argh! You stupid girl! Look what you've done!" The thief spat as he was slashed by the hungry cave bear's vicious claws. The thief retaliated by slicing the bear's front claws off. Sarila quickly and quietly snuck away deeper into the woods, and didn't look back. Not even when she heard the Argonian's final death cry.


	4. Take My Hand

Sarila had been walking for nearly four hours, and she decided to take a break. She placed a hand to her forehead. "Gods…what a mess." Sarila quietly told herself, remembering earlier's incident. Sarila took her empty bottle of Nord Mead and filled it with water from a nearby stream. She took a big sip and let the cool liquid relax her throat muscles. The sun's warming rays provided her with a feeling of relaxation.

"A-a-a! Help me!"

Sarila perked up. _Was that someone calling for help?_

"N-no! Please help me! Someone!"

 _Someone WAS calling for help! I have to go see!_

Sarila put her bottle of water away and ran to where the screaming was coming from. Her violet eyes widened.

Before her was a little girl with her foot stuck in a tree's root. The little girl was trying to get her foot free, and was also trying to drive several wolves away. The wolves were howling and snarling at the girl as if to threaten and taunt her.

Sarila unsheathed her ebony dagger and stabbed the wolf closest to the girl in the head. She pulled her dagger out of the wolf's corpse and slashed at another wolf. Sarila then took her ebony dagger and cut the tree's root until the girl's foot was free.

The girl was clearly panicking, and climbed up the tree. Sarila quickly thrust her dagger into another wolf's heart, leaving only one wolf left. The wolf angrily snarled at Sarila, and lunged for her, biting her shoulder. Sarila cried out in pain and put one hand over the bite to stop the bleeding as she quickly killed the final wolf. Sarila poured water on her bite wound and covered it up with some spare cloth.

"I…I…I was s-so scared! I didn't know what to do, and then those big mean wolves came and tried to get me!" The little girl sobbed. Sarila pitied the poor girl. She got on her knees so she was eye-level with the girl. "Where are your parents? Where are the people you're with?" Sarila asked the frightened girl. "My parents died a long time ago. I've been all by myself for so long, I don't even remember the last person I saw. I don't even have a house, I usually sleep outside on the ground, but now there are a lot more wolves and bears than there used to be." The girl replied, still shaken up.

Sarila immediately empathized with the girl. "Then we need to find a safe place." She told the girl. "I won't leave you." Sarila reassured the child with a smile. "What's your name, little one?" Sarila asked. "My name is Lyvette. I'm seven years old, I think." Lyvette introduced herself with a smile.

"That is a very pretty name. I'm Sarila, and I'm 17 years old." Sarila waved to the little girl. Sarila's stomach growled, and Lyvette's followed soon after. The little girl giggled. "I know a great place to get food, there's a tree full of apples. Follow me!" Lyvette confidently led the way.

Lyvette had taken them to a small clearing in the forest. Thankfully, they did not encounter any wild beasts, and were able to enjoy some nice, crunchy apples. Sarila suddenly thought to ask Lyvette if she had seen Ytri anywhere.

"You didn't happen to see another woman out here, did you? If you did, did she have long, brown hair and green eyes?" Sarila questioned, hoping for the best.

"No, just you. But I sometimes see bunnies out here. They're really cute and fluffy." Lyvette chirped enthusiastically. Sarila was disappointed that her friend was still missing, but she smiled at the child's innocence. She took another bite into her apple, and tried to forget about her misfortunes for the time being.

Later that night, a cold gust of wind blew through the crisp air of Skyrim to announce its nighttime's presence. Lyvette shivered. "Don't worry, I'll make a fire." Sarila told the cold child. Sarila was able to find more wood to burn this time with Lyvette's assistance, and they tossed all their findings in a pile. Lyvette gathered rocks and placed them in a circle around the wood. Sarila knew the spell for Flames, so this time she did not need to read the spell tome. She summoned a ball of fire in her hands and threw them forward with great force, being careful not to burn Lyvette.

After Sarila's spell was cast, the two girls had a crackling fire. When the two of them went to bed that night, they each knew that they weren't alone, and that they had a new friend to keep them company.


	5. To Riften

Sarila awoke to someone shaking her. She looked over to see who it was, and saw Lyvette. "Sarila! There are people over there!" The child frantically exclaimed. Sarila got up slowly. She winced in pain when she felt the bite wound she had received from one of the wolves the previous day. She gently clutched her shoulder. "Where are they?" Sarila questioned. Lyvette adopted a frightened expression on her face and pointed towards some of the bushes. Sarila quietly crept over and hid inside of the bushes.

"Your leader, Ulfric Stormcloak, is a traitor, a murderer! After we kill you lot, we will someday advance to Windhelm and the Palace of the Kings where your cowardly leader resides! In the name of Emperor Titus Mede II, we will have Ulfric's head on a platter!" A very angry male voice shouted, followed by cheers from his comrades. Sarila recognized these men to be Imperial soldiers, and she quickly glanced where the soldiers were yelling. Several people, both men and women, stood before the Imperials. They wore fur boots, metal helmets, and blue armor, which led Sarila to realize they were Stormcloak soldiers. Sarila had heard stories of the bloody Civil War that had broken out across Skyrim, but never experienced a clash up close.

The Stormcloaks were obviously outraged by the Imperials' belittling of their idol. One courageous Stormcloak woman charged forward and struck an Imperial on the head with a mace, instantly killing him. Sarila gasped in shock. She was sickened by the sound of his skull shattering and his blood flowing. The Imperials began to fight back, and chaos erupted. Sarila decided that she did not want to risk being found or caught up in the crossfire, and she snuck back towards where Lyvette waited.

"Lyvette, we need to go. It's much too dangerous to be around this area." Sarila told her. Lyvette quickly nodded and gathered what little things she had, a doll; a flower hairclip, and two apples.

Sarila swiftly fastened her backpack straps around her shoulders, being careful not to cause pain to her bite wound, and tucked her ebony dagger into the sheathe. The two girls quickly and quietly fled the pandemonium that would not end soon enough.

An hour later, Sarila looked ahead into the forest. "I think I can see a river, probably Lake Honrich, but I'm not certain. Either way, we should stop for some water." Sarila suggested. Lyvette sat on a nearby rock and stroked her doll's hair. Sarila approached the body of water and uncorked her empty bottle of Nord Mead. She dipped the bottle into the water and waited for it to fill up. She put the cork back in the bottle and splashed water from the river on her face. The cool liquid refreshed her and helped her rejuvenate.

"Sarila?" Lyvette called. Sarila approached the young girl. "What are we going to do? Where will we go?" The curious child tilted her head while she waited for an answer. "I don't have a plan. My friend is out there somewhere, but I don't know where she is, or what happened to her. I wanted to find her, but I'll have to wait until I feel better. I'm not sure where we'll go. Where do you think we should head?" Sarila asked for the younger girl's input.

"I think we should go to Riften. There's a lot of really neat stuff there my parents told me about. They have lots of fish, and I think I heard my mom say that they had an Inn." Lyvette answered, happy that Sarila had considered her opinions important.

Sarila _really_ didn't want to get involved with anymore civilization. As much as she hated to admit it, Lyvette was right. If the pair wanted even a sliver of hope to survive, they needed to find a city with a wall and food. If she got lucky and started to regain her strength, she could search for Ytri.

"You're right, Lyvette. If we want to live, we need to get to a city or someplace safe. Someplace better than here, that's for sure. That was a very smart idea." Sarila praised the young girl who grinned giddily.

"How do we get to Riften, though? What will we do?" Lyvette questioned curiously. "I hear that Riften has a lot of water around it. They specialize in fishing, so it seems logical that there's water near the city. I'm not exactly sure which direction to go, but we'll find a way if we work together." Sarila encouraged.

Sarila had no idea what was in Riften or what to expect. She had heard rumors of it being a city of beauty, safety, and wealth. She had heard that flowers popped up in every corner, that children laughed and played merrily throughout the streets as lovers paddled in small boats through the canal. Little did she know just how wrong those rumors were.


	6. The Corrupt Paradise

"I see a big wall up ahead!" Lyvette's tiny voice chirped. Sarila fixed her gaze on what rested ahead. It was as Lyvette claimed, an enormous wall made of gray bricks stood before the pair, accompanied by neighing of eager horses and rushing of the rivers.

Sarila and Lyvette quickly approached the large wall and neared the door. "Halt!" A manly voice shouted. The girls stopped in their tracks. Sarila turned her head left and was face to face with a Riften Guard. "To enter here, you must pay the visitor's tax." The guard informed her, holding out his palm.

Sarila was surprised. "Whatever for?" She questioned suspiciously. "For the privilege of entering the city, of course." The guard scoffed, still waiting for Sarila to fork over the gold. Sarila wasn't street smart, but she was no fool. "It's quite obvious to me that this is a shakedown." Sarila accused boldly.

The guard quickly glanced in different directions. "Alright, alright! You want someone to hear you? I'll open the gate, just give me a second…" The guard grumbled as he fiddled with several keys in his pocket. With a loud click, the gate was unlocked, inviting Sarila and Lyvette inside.

As soon as she stepped inside, the scent of mead, water, and fish drifted to Sarila's nose. The sound of trickling water in the canal and the sound of shopkeepers barking out their products filled the air. A nearby guard stopped to stare at Sarila and Lyvette, frightening the young girl.

"Stay close to me." Sarila whispered to Lyvette, who nodded and grabbed Sarila's hand. Sarila was looking around and was about to approach the town market when a gruff male voice stopped her.

"I don't know you. You in Riften lookin' for trouble?" A very burly man crossly asked Sarila. Sarila was feeling quite bold, and decided to stand up to him. "I'm not scared of you." She spat. "That's the wrong answer. Last thing the Black-Briars need around here is some troublemaker tryin' to steal a piece of the action." He gruffly warned.

 _The Black-Briars? Who are they? Are they some sort of Guild or Clan? Huh…couldn't hurt to ask I suppose…_

"Eh...sir? Who exactly are the Black-Briars?" Sarila asked innocently. "The Black-Briars have Riften in their pocket and the Thieves Guild watchin' their back, so keep your nose out of their business. Me? I'm Maul. I watch the streets for 'em. If you need dirt on anythin', I'm your guy…but it'll cost you." Maul informed, crossing his arms, probably trying to look intimidating.

 _Black-Briars…Thieves Guild…what in the name of Oblivion? I thought this place was a haven!_

Sarila squeezed Lyvette's hand harder and the two of them walked into the market. "Buy armor from Grelka and live to tell about it!" A loud Nord woman called out. Sarila ignored her business approach and continued walking. A black-haired Nord woman was seen belittling another woman with blonde hair and blue robes. The blonde-haired woman scurried away with a frightened expression.

Near the Temple of Mara, another Nord woman was seen conversing with a man. Sarila tuned in. "I had another run in with the Thieves Guild." The Nord woman blankly stated. "Be careful, Mjoll. The Thieves Guild has Maven Black-Briar at their back. One snap of her fingers, and you could end up in Riften Jail…or worse." The concerned man warned. "They represent the reason I'm here. I can't just ignore them, Aerin." The woman now known as Mjoll replied sternly to the man named Aerin. "I know. I just don't want you to leave; you're the only good thing that's happened to this city in a long time." Aerin gently told her.

 _What is wrong with this city?! I thought this place was supposed to be secure!_

Sarila shook off her thought and continued to walk around with Lyvette. The young girl tugged on Sarila's hand. "Yes? What is it, Lyvette?" Sarila asked, looking down to the shy girl. "There's a big building over there, I think it's an inn or tavern." Lyvette answered cheerfully. Sarila squinted. She was sure the sign said _"The Bee and Barb."_ It was certainly a strange thing to call a tavern, but there were people streaming in and out of it.

 _Where there were people, there are taverns. And where there are taverns, there are almost always inns with rooms for rent._

Sarila and Lyvette exchanged a joyful smile at each other. The two of them knew that they would be eating well that night, and that they would not be sleeping out in the cold. The duo walked towards the tavern, happy that they had a guaranteed chance at surviving. Even though the city was a wreck, Sarila knew she needed to take time to heal up and get things sorted out before she set out to search for Ytri.

 _This is going to be interesting. Very interesting indeed._


	7. Mead, Sweetrolls, And Salmon

Sarila sat at the bar with a tankard full of mead. She quietly sipped and contemplated her predicament.

 _Stuck in a city full of ravenous thieves, taking care of a child, separated from Ytri…how did this all come to be?_

Sarila snapped out of her trance when she heard someone clear their throat. She looked up to see Keerava's beady-eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch what you said." Sarila reasoned. Keerava the barmaid shook her head in frustration. "Where are you from, and why, exactly, are you here?" Keerava repeated.

Sarila inhaled sharply. "My friend and I were in the woods when we got separated, and I found the girl who's with me now. We came here in hopes of finding a safe place to heal up and stay for a while. Things didn't go as planned." Sarila murmured quietly.

Keerava chuckled. "Riften ain't never been safe, nor will it be, not with the Thieves' Guild and the Skooma dealers wanderin' 'round out there." Keerava replied to Sarila, although it sounded as if she were convincing herself.

Sarila sighed and looked into her tankard of mead which was now empty. She fished into her pocket and pulled out a small coinpurse. She tossed the leather pouch to Keerava, who caught it with her scaly-hands. Keerava put the coinpurse under the bar. She took Sarila's empty tankard and put it underneath the mead-keg. Sarila watched with anticipation as the bubbly liquid slid into her tankard.

Hours later, Sarila took Lyvette up to their room. It had just enough room for the both of them; two beds and a dresser. The warm aura from the fireplace drifted up through the floorboards and comforted Sarila. She kicked her shoes off and tucked herself into the small bed, thinking of plans for the next day as she drifted off to sleep.

Sarila awoke to Lyvette bouncing on her bed. "Sarila! Keerava and Talen-Jei have Sweetrolls! Come on!" The child exclaimed to the older woman with glee. Sarila sat up and stretched her arms with a jaw-cracking yawn. She quickly slid her shoes back on her feet and grabbed her coinpurse.

 _A miracle no one has stolen anything from us yet._

Sarila and Lyvette raced down the tavern's stairs to be met with an unmistakable aroma: Sweetrolls. Lyvette's eyes dazzled in delight. Sarila quickly approached Keerava with 10 Septims, enough for a Sweetroll for Lyvette and herself. The two girls sat down at a small table and snacked on their Sweetrolls. The sun glistened through the window, and the rays of light caused the irresistible icing of the Sweetroll to shine.

Sarila grabbed a washcloth and dipped it in cool water. She gently cleaned her shoulder where the wolf had bitten her days before. The wound had no signs of infection, and was well on its way to healing. Sarila sighed in relief. After all, the last thing she needed was to be infected while searching for Ytri.

Sarila's mind then came to the focus of money. When she ran out, where would she and Lyvette stay? What would they eat? Sarila began to ponder.

 _If this place were to become long-term, which I hope it doesn't, I'd need to find a job—a job that could support myself and a child, and possibly a third person if we end up finding Ytri._

Sarila began to think of the possibilities for a career, an occupation, or possibly just an odd-job here or there, as long as it was paying.

 _I could be a blacksmith, but that requires training, and I've heard the blacksmith in Riften already has an apprentice. I could possibly become a market vendor, but I'd need something to sell first._

Thoughts of possible jobs flew around Sarila's head until it clicked. Ytri had taught Sarila how to fish when she was younger. She had actually become quite good at it, and had even caught a few fish larger than two feet.

 _Riften specializes in fishing, so I'd fit right in with the majority of the crowd!_

Sarila smiled to herself and casually walked to the door next to the Scorched Hammer, the smithy, and stepped out into Skyrim.

Sarila grabbed a fishing rod she had found on a tiny boat. She stuck her bait—a Torchbug, on the hook. She quickly but gently cast her line into the water. When she felt a tug, she reeled in her catch. Much to her surprise, it was a fair-sized salmon. Its glossy fins rubbed against its gorgeous blue-silver sides.

 _I believe I heard Keerava say she'd be needing fish for dinner tonight at the tavern. I should see if she's interested in buying._

Sarila strode back to the tavern, fish in hand, smiling, knowing that she had accomplished something that day.


	8. All That Glitters

As days went by, the more thunderstorms came to be. It seemed to Sarila that the time the sun was out was getting smaller, and so was her coinpurse. Sarila counted her Septims, and in total, found 87 coins. She nervously gulped. _I'm almost out of Septims. This can't be good._

Sarila had begun to work at the Riften Fishery some time ago, but quit after three days of the job. Her boss, Bolli, was fairly nice, but he gave the workers low pay, claiming the cause of it to be his wife, Nivenor, squandering their Septims on unneeded trinkets and baubles. On the topic of workers, Sarila had noticed one, an Argonian woman named Wujeeta, to have glowing red eyes, a symptom of Skooma addiction. After the rumors Sarila had heard of the Skooma trade, she'd decided it was best not to get involved with this shady character.

Sarila was getting desperate for gold. She was willing to do nearly anything to obtain some, if any at all, so she and Lyvette could continue a fairly easy life. Sarila paced around the Inn until a small voice broke her thoughts.

"I'm very hungry, Sarila." Lyvette stared into Sarila's violet eyes with her own sad, gleaming blue ones. "Do not worry, little one. I will get you some food." Sarila reassured the starved child.

Sarila approached Keerava's bar. "Keerava, do you have any apples? Red or green will do just fine." Sarila asked the barmaid. Keerava looked under her bar, only to return with empty hands. She whistled and waved her scaly hand in a motion to call Talen-Jei, her lover and co-worker, over. "Check the basement for apples." Keerava commanded. Talen-Jei nodded and dashed to the door and down the stairs.

He returned a minute later. "We appear to be out of apples. Those filthy Thieves must be sweeping for food, now." Talen-Jei hissed. Sarila was dumbfounded. _What kind of horrible person would steal from an Inn full of hungry customers?_

"Erm…you wouldn't happen to have anything else, would you?" Sarila nervously questioned. Keerava bent over and picked up a cheese wedge. "Would this be enough?" Keerava asked. "That's plenty. How much?" Sarila stuck her hand in her coinpurse. "Three Septims, milady." Talen-Jei answered for Keerava.

Sarila dropped the three gold coins onto the table with a _clink,_ and received the cheese wedge for Lyvette. "Here you go, sweetie. Eat up." Sarila gave the child a warm smile. "It's an Eidar cheese wedge! My favorite! Thank you so much!" Lyvette wrapped her arms around Sarila in a big hug, and proceeded to devour her very small meal.

Sarila left the Inn to go get some air. Tiny droplets of water descended from the sky. _Rain._ Sarila dug into her backpack and removed a small hood. She donned it, and managed to keep most of her face and hair dry. She slowly paced around to the marketplace.

 _Nobody is out today. It must be the rain that's driving everyone back into their homes. Even the guards aren't at their posts. What in Oblivion?_

Sarila's contemplation was interrupted by her growling stomach. She sighed and glanced around. She suddenly came to a realization.

 _No one is around. Madesi's market stall is right over there with all his necklaces and rings…and those things sell for a pretty nice amount of gold. What if…_

Sarila slapped herself in the face out of shock. _Had she really just had that thought?_ Sarila began to turn away from the tempting glitter of the gemstones and the shine of the silver when another loud roar of her stomach stopped her in her tracks. Sarila sighed in defeat.

 _Okay, it's going for a good cause. I need this, Lyvette needs this, and technically Ytri does, too. Being separated from Ytri won't matter if I starve to death._

Sarila stepped closer to the market stall. She examined the lock on the display case. _Hmm…looks like I'll need to somehow pick it open. I might have a lockpick somewhere…_

Sarila dug around in her pack until her hand jabbed a sharp object. She pulled her hand back in surprise. Upon Sarila's closer examination, she had indeed found a suitable lockpick.

She positioned the pick in front of the lock and plunged it in. She began to twist and twirl the lockpick between her fingers, and slowly, steadily turned the lock. _Easy…easy now…a little bit more to the right…_

The lock opened with a satisfying click. Sarila sighed in relief. She had only wanted to take one or two things, but her desperation took over and soon enough, her pack was filled with beautiful baubles and glimmering gold trinkets.

Sarila suddenly perked up. What if someone had seen her? She began to hyperventilate and dashed behind the Inn. Sarila slowly and calmly regained her composure and began to breathe normally again. "Thank the Gods…alone…" She breathed, wiping tears, sweat, and rain from her face.

"Not exactly alone, since I'm here, but yes, I'm the only one around, and _we_ are alone, lass." A voice plainly stated. Sarila jumped and reached for her ebony dagger in its sheath. "W-who are you? What do y-you want from m-me?" Sarila quivered. She paused and heard chuckling. "What I want, is to congratulate you. You broke into a display case, nabbed all the valuables, and whisked away like a bird on a cold day. It's a wonder those guards didn't see you." The voice replied. "I can see why you did it though, lass. You seem to be running a tad low on coin." Sarila jumped at that statement.

"You're really starting to frighten me. Please come where I can see you." Sarila pleaded. "Ah, well, I never really was one for picking on young women, so here I am." The voice concluded, and a split second later, a man in brownish-black leathery armor leaped from the Bee and Barb's rooftop. He had emerald-green eyes and red hair. He had a muscular form, Sarila noted, so he must have been very fit.

"Who are you?" Sarila narrowed her eyes, and didn't move her hand away from her dagger, still in its sheath. "The name's Brynjolf. I'm the second-in-command of the Thieves' Guild. And I look out for people with skills like yours." The man now known as Brynjolf answered with a curt nod. "I'm here to offer you a job, I've been looking for a pair of extra hands for quite some time now. You can decline, but just remember: in my line of work, extra hands are well-paid." Brynjolf explained. Sarila's violet eyes widened at his last sentence. "What kind of job?" Sarila questioned. Brynjolf smiled at her interest and began to explain his master plan.

 _He wants me to steal a ring from Madesi's strongbox and plant it on someone, what's his name, Brand-Shei? Well, I feel a little bad about stealing from Madesi again, but it's still for a good cause. Brynjolf gets his job done, I get compensation to provide food and housing for Lyvette and myself. I suppose it is a double benefit._

"Alright, you've got yourself a deal." Sarila shook the taller man's hand. "Glad to see you finally came to your senses, lass. Meet me here tomorrow in the market at ten o'clock sharp." Brynjolf instructed her.

 _This is going to be risky, but it's a risk worth taking…he might be someone I can trust…but then again, he is a thief. I wonder…_

Sarila didn't even remember the jewelry she had stolen on the way back to her room.


	9. Boiled Creme and Dragon Dream

Sarila's violet eyes fluttered open.

 _Mmmmph? Huh? Wasn't I sleeping in my bed in the Inn just a minute ago?_

Sarila looked at her surroundings to discover that she was in a room in what appeared to be a cabin. She smelled boiled creme treats with Juniper and Jazbay glaze.

 _Juniper and Jazbay glaze…w-wait…only mother made those…she was the only one with the recipe…_

"Sarila, dear, your breakfast has been prepared! Come join us, please!" A cheery female voice called.

 _M-mother? Mother? Are you alive? Are you really there?_

"Coming, dear mother!" Sarila leaped out of her small cot and bounded down the stairs. She was greeted with the lovely turquoise glazing of her mother's unique boiled creme treats.

"Good morning, my silly-Sarilly!" Her mother smiled and ruffled her hair, her mother's kind, blue eyes gazing into her daughter's violet ones. Sarila noticed that she was once again a young child.

 _Is this real? Am I still a child? Was all that just a dream? Or is this a dream?_

Sarila turned her attention once again to the table and platter of creme treats before her. She practically flew over to her small oak chair. She heard loud footsteps. "Ah, you're awake! Good morning, Sarila!" Her father's deep but cheerful voice welcomed from behind her. Even though Sarila could not see him, she could hear the smile in his jolly voice.

"Sarila! Hurry up and eat so we can go play outside! Come on! Eaaaaat!" A childish male voice called out to her. Sarila turned to her left and was greeted by a flash of red whizzing by her.

"Come now, Ysgrig, your sister needs to eat her breakfast. After you play, your father and I have some presents for you, seeing as it's New Life festival soon!" Sarila's mother chirped.

"Sarila, come on! Eat up, so we can go play Olaf One-Eye and Numinex!" Her brother, Ysgrig, urged. "Sarila, take your time." Her mother reassured. "Sarila, you look lovely today!" Her father complimented. Sarila sat there confused and helpless as they continued to call her name.

 _Sarila, Sarila, Sarila, Sarila, Sarila._

Sarila jolted awake to feel someone, or something, shaking her arm. She turned to see the mysterious visitor and calmed her nerves when it was none other than Lyvette.

"Yes, sweetie? What do you need?" Sarila sleepily asked, rubbing her eyes. "I had a nightmare." The young child's usual cheerful face was grim and stern.

"Awww, I'm sorry. Maybe if you tell me, it'll make it better." Sarila encouraged the girl. "Well…okay. I had a dream that there were prisoners in a cart being pulled by a horse. They went into this little town, and all the townspeople booed and hated them, because they were the bad guys…and…" Lyvette trailed off. "What was the town called? Why were they going there?" Sarila asked, to keep Lyvette talking. "It had a sign that said Hel…Helgi…Helgea…" Lyvette stumbled on her words. "Helgen?" Sarila answered for her. "Mmm-hmm. " Lyvette nodded. Sarila smiled. Lyvette was simply adorable, Sarila thought, when she mispronounced something.

"They were going to the town to be punished because they were Stormcloaks. The people punishing them were really mean. Two of the prisoners were innocent, they weren't Stormcloaks at all." Lyvette clenched her fists in anger at the fact the two people in her dream were framed. "One of the innocent prisoners tried to run, but the bullies shot him with an arrow and killed him." Lyvette's eyes teared up. Sarila frowned. Lyvette was an innocent child. She didn't deserve these dreams.

"Then those mean men took a Stormcloak and they pushed him onto a…a thing." Lyvette couldn't find the right words. "A chopping block? Something they use to behead people?" Sarila helped Lyvette. "Right. They pushed him on the block and a man in a black hood chopped his head off with his big, scary axe!" Lyvette grew slightly hysteric. Sarila was shocked. How could such a sweetheart dream of such things? A Stormcloak capturing and execution…an executioner beheading someone before the eyes of his comrades…

"The mean men told the other innocent prisoner to go to the chopping block. They put her head on the block and the hooded man raised his scary axe. Right when he was going to cut her head off…a big, black dragon landed on the tower behind him and somehow made him fall over. It shouted words. Scary words. It destroyed the town and burned people alive! The innocent prisoner got away safely into a nearby tower with some of the Stormcloaks." Lyvette continued. "She looked so scared. I felt really bad for her. She seemed nice." Lyvette concluded.

"Don't worry, Lyvette. It was just a bad dream. Dragons aren't real." Sarila calmed the young child, but was still quite disturbed herself. "I'm scared, Sarila." Lyvette whispered. "Well, what can I tell you to make it all better?" Sarila asked the frightened girl. Lyvette closed her eyes and thought for a minute.

"That everything will be okay, and that you won't leave me." Lyvette sleepily murmured to the older woman. "Don't worry Lyvette. As long as I'm here, everything will be fine. I won't leave you, I promise."

"Mmmm…" Lyvette drifted off to sleep next to Sarila. Sarila stroked the young girl's hair.

 _How could such a sweetheart dream of such traumatic events?_


	10. The Lock Heard Round The World

Sarila made extra sure to hide her backpack full of stolen jewelry in an unsuspecting place. It was near 9:50 in the morning. Brynjolf had told her to meet him in the market at 10 o'clock sharp. Sarila knew she would need luck on her side for this job.

 _This job could be really risky…time to perform my regular luck ritual._

Sarila reached for her ebony dagger. She wiped it off to make sure it wasn't contaminated by disease it might have picked up. She closed her eyes and clutched the dagger's hilt in her palm.

 _Father, mother, sweet, sweet brother, I call for your help today…_

 _Grant me the power of strength like a tower, and not like a tree might sway…_

 _Give me the swiftness and wits of a steed; these are the qualities I just might need…_

 _Thank you for your love, your gazes above, and with caution, I will succeed._

Sarila finished her prayer by grasping her dagger and making a slight cut on the scar of her right cheek. She felt the blood ooze out, but she didn't mind. It actually felt comforting to her.

Sarila had told Lyvette earlier that she was going to help someone and that she'd be back soon. Technically, Sarila thought, it was true, since she was assisting Brynjolf in his business. She opened the old wooden doors of the Bee and Barb and exited the Inn, feeling the cool, crisp air greet her face.

Sarila strode to the marketplace, earning strange looks, probably from the cut and blood oozing from her cheek. She looked for Brynjolf in the market. She noticed him standing in a market stall, peddling some kind of potion in a tall, red bottle. This time, he was wearing fine, embroidered robes and tall, black boots. Brynjolf suddenly noticed her and turned to smile, but his smile soon faded when he saw the gash in her cheek.

"Er, lass? You appear to have a slight—" Brynjolf was cut off mid-sentence. "I know, Brynjolf. I can feel it. Don't worry, it's fine. Really." Sarila reassured. Brynjolf shrugged. "Whatever floats your boat, lass." He turned his gaze to Brand-Shei, the Dunmer selling goods at his own market stall.

"Tell me when you're ready, and I'll create a distraction. You remember the plan?" Brynjolf asked. "Of course I remember. I'm so good at stuff like this that Brand-Shei might as well arrest himself." Sarila joked. Brynjolf's eyes widened with surprise. Surely, he thought, she was not _this_ experienced. Brynjolf merely shook it off and straightened his back. He cleared his throat.

"Everyone! Everyone! Gather round! I have something to show you that demands your attention!" Brynjolf boomed, grinning ear to ear. Everyone in the market, including the guards, rushed over to see what the rabble was about. Brynjolf, with all eyes on him, continued his sham. "I present to you, the Falmer Blood Elixir!" He exclaimed, raising a red bottle into the air. "You mean like the Snow-Elves?" Brand-Shei inquired, tilting his head. "The one and only." Brynjolf replied, still beaming.

While Brynjolf explained the "Falmer Blood Elixir" and its properties, Sarila casually walked over to Madesi's market stall. She ducked behind it when she was sure no one was looking. Sarila rooted around beneath the stall and found a sliding door. When she pushed it aside, the strongbox sat before her. Sarila took out her lockpick and inserted it into the lock. She began to twist it and slightly angle it until the lock came undone with a quiet click.

Sarila smiled. _This strongbox was so loosely locked up…no wonder people get robbed here all the time!_ Sarila took everything from the strongbox and put it into her new satchel. She kept the ring in her hand, though, as she was going to need it handy. Sarila calmly approached Brand-Shei, but made it look as if she were there to view Brynjolf's "miracle."

Sarila steadily reached her hand out and dropped the ring into the unsuspecting Dunmer's pocket. She looked Brynjolf in the eyes and blinked twice to signal that the job was complete. Brynjolf winked at her. "Well, looks like my time here is up. I'll be back tomorrow morning if you wish to make a purchase." The crowd dispersed, and Sarila walked over to Brynjolf.

"Well done, lass. Your payment, as promised." Brynjolf praised as he tossed Sarila a thick purse full of 100 Septims. Sarila's eyes gawked at the sight. "It's a wonder our plan went off without a hitch." Brynjolf told her. This caught Sarila's attention.

"Why? What's the matter?" She questioned. "My organization's been having a bit of bad luck lately. But if you want more jobs, more coin, there's plenty more where it came from, if you're up for it." Brynjolf offered.

 _I need to do this. For me, for Lyvette, for the good of everyone. "_ You got yourself a deal, Brynjolf." Sarila shook his hand once more. "You'll need to enter through the Ratway. There are a series of tunnels beneath the streets of Riften that lead to our meeting place, the Ragged Flagon. You'll meet my organization there. Good luck." Brynjolf bade Sarila farewell.

 _This could be the start of a new job…one that could support Lyvette and I…but I still need to look for Ytri._


	11. Rocks, Trees, And Gentle Breeze

Sarila had a lot to think about. Normally, she never would have joined forces with _petty_ thieves, but she had noticed that they weren't petty at all. In fact, Brynjolf seemed to have regulations. Sarila deduced that since he, the second in command, had plans and rules to follow, the others were bound to as well. She had also remembered hearing stories of lowlifes, murderers, and skeevers in the Ratway. She shuddered at the thought of those squirming rodent-like creatures.

If there were to be that many dangers in the Ratway, she would need an extra set of eyes, pair of hands, and an extra pair of ears. This meant she would need someone to enter the Ratway with her. She didn't have many real friends, and Lyvette was young and feeble, and had probably never brandished a weapon in her life. This meant that Sarila would have to find a new partner in crime. She smiled in amusement, because the term "partner in crime" was literal in this case.

Sarila decided to go fishing near the front gate. She approached the gate and left the city of Riften. A light gust of wind was evident in the crisp air of Skyrim. Sarila rubbed her hands together as she viewed the beautiful trees, which were beginning to regrow their leaves. She smiled, as it made her remember her childhood cabin. Her smile quickly faded into a frown when she remembered that fateful day in the forest where she lost her family. It was also the day she met Ytri, and the day the two became friends.

Sarila listened to the whinnying of the graceful mares and horses eagerly waiting to be fed crunchy apples and carrots. She watched as a small Torchbug flew in front of her violet eyes, as if to show its brightness to her. Sarila stopped her connections with nature when she heard voices. _Tense_ voices.

"You'd best hand over what you lot have, or I'll be getting four new rugs for my house!" A gravelly male voice yelled. "Never! Khajiiti trade caravans never surrender their merchandise! This one thinks you should walk away." A low, female voice declared. Sarila recognized this woman to be a Khajiit, probably in one of the Khajiit caravans that travels Skyrim in hopes of trading and selling goods.

"What's that the other guy's got? Hey, I'm talking to you!" The male shouted angrily. Sarila stepped closer and ducked behind a bush to get a better view. Her eyes widened when she saw the situation unfolding in front of her. A very large, tall, burly-looking bandit was threatening the Khajiit caravan for their valuables. He approached a grey Khajiit male and brought his sword to the poor Khajiit's throat.

"Take that pretty necklace off your neck, or you won't have a neck to wear it on!" The bandit snarled confidently. "T-the Moon Amulet…it is the only memory of home this one has left! My mother gave it to me when I was just a cub!" The grey Khajiit pleaded. "I told you to give it here or else!" The bandit commanded again. Sarila gasped in disgust. _That man is stealing someone's last memory of home! I have to help that poor Khajiit!_

Sarila looked around for a nearby object to toss at the bandit. Her gorgeous eyes focused their gaze upon a moderately-sized rock. Before she knew it, the rock gently caressed her palm as she beaned the bandit in the face with it.

"Arrrgh!" He growled in pain. Sarila ran over to him and pushed him to the ground, giving the group of Khajiiti time to run for cover. The bandit quickly got back on his feet and pursued Sarila. "Get back over here, girl, and I'll make sure you'll have a limb left after I'm done with you!" The furious bandit ranted as he clutched his bloodied nose. Sarila had no choice but to keep running until she found a tree that had many branches. She drew her ebony dagger, ran to the tree, and jumped up, and as she did so, she plunged her dagger into the tree, and pulled herself up with it. Sarila then pulled her dagger from the tree when she perched on a strong, thick branch. "Get down here, or I'll cut your throat apart!" The bandit panted as he caught up to Sarila.

"By the Eight, girl, you are a feisty one! Get down here and I'll make sure your death is quick and painless!" He threatened. "Alright, you asked for it, I'm going up there!" The bandit paused after his threat to see if Sarila would try to make a run for it. "Mm-mmm, I don't think so! If you could get me, you would have already!" Sarila teased. "Gah! Fine then! Watch this!" The bandit immediately took his sword and planted it into the thinnest part of the tree he could find. He began to move his sword back in forth in a rhythmic motion. Sarila realized his plan: he was going to fell the tree, and after he cut it down, he was going to cut _her_ down.

It took five minutes, but the persistent bandit finally sawed through the tree, stood back, and watched it fall. It took him three seconds to realize Sarila wasn't there. "Wha-? Hey, girl! Where'd you go?!" He snarled lividly. The bandit turned his head when he heard a high-pitched whistle. "Hey, Falmer-Face! I'm over here!" Sarila teased him again. The bandit, now completely ballistic, charged towards Sarila, sword in hand. What he failed to realize, though, was that Sarila stood in front of a ledge of a moderately high drop. Just as the bandit was nearing, Sarila nimbly dashed to her left and watched as the bandit tumbled down the drop. She looked away when the bandit was about to impact the ground, and covered her ears as he was impaled by his own sword. "Rest in pieces." She muttered. 


	12. Butterflies

Sarila shuddered as she walked back to the front gate. Yet another near-death experience had been too much for her, though she was sure she would encounter more. She stroked her scarred cheek as she continued her trek, only to be stopped by the clearing of someone's throat. She turned around to see the grey Khajiit from earlier. His eyes were glistening with joy. "This one wants to thank you. If you had not shown up when you did…my Moon Amulet would have been lost to that fiend." The Khajiit gratefully thanked. "It was no trouble, really. I just can't stand to see someone else in trouble." Sarila replied with a warm smile. "In fact, if you ever need the help of a strong Khajiit warrior in your travels, I am here for you." The Khajiit concluded. "Oh, I didn't catch your name. I'm Sarila, in case you were wondering." The Nord woman held out her hand.

"Kharjo. My mother called me Kharjo when I was a cub. That is my name." Kharjo stated quietly, almost in a whisper as he shook Sarila's hand. Sarila was mystified by this Khajiit. All Khajiit were mysterious, had unique accents, and of course they had very different grammar and speaking standards. Nonetheless, Sarila enjoyed Khajiiti, despite the fact that many thought they were thieves, Skooma dealers, pickpockets, and smugglers. Not all Khajiit were bad, and this one had seemed okay in Sarila's book.

Sarila had paused when she remembered hearing Kharjo offer her assistance in travels. _Could this be true? Have the Divines smiled upon me? Have they sent me help to get into the Ratway, join the Guild for gold to support Lyvette and myself, and possibly even find Ytri? Could it be…?_

Sarila snapped out of her thoughts when Kharjo turned around to return to his caravan. "Wait a moment, please wait." She called out to him, making the Khajiit stop in his tracks. His tail curiously curled as he turned back around to face her. "This one needs something?" Kharjo asked. "I do need your assistance. I've been tasked with getting into an underground meeting place, but it's too dangerous for me only. Could you assist me in that matter?" Sarila looked Kharjo in the eyes as she spoke to make it clear she needed him.

"What are we waiting for, then? Lead on, friend." Kharjo's lips tugged upward into a smile. His eyes showed dedication, bravery, and loyalty. _Surely this is someone I can trust._

Sarila walked back into Riften with Kharjo by her side. Several of the townsfolk gave her disapproving glances; they didn't think a Khajiit belonged within the city walls. In fact, the only people who weren't surprised were Talen-Jei, Keerava, Vulwulf Snow-Shod, and Lyvette. Talen-Jei and Keerava didn't mind who showed up in their bar, as long as they didn't drive away customers or cause trouble. Lyvette didn't care about Kharjo's race because she was just a child. And Vulwulf, of course, was drunk out of his mind, so he obviously couldn't identify Kharjo.

Lyvette's eyes brightened as soon as she saw Sarila. "Sarila! Look at this pretty butterfly I drew!" She squealed in delight, holding up a piece of paper with a charcoal drawing of a butterfly on it. "It's a Luna Moth!" Lyvette excitedly added. "That is a very beautiful drawing, Lyvette! You should give this to Keerava and have her hang it up on the wall." Sarila suggested. "Good idea! Thanks, Sarila!" Lyvette sprinted over to Keerava's bar with her drawing in her hands and a big grin on her face. Sarila watched as Lyvette explained her drawing to Keerava, and watched as Keerava's usually irritated face morphed into a merry smile and eventually a full-out laugh. Keerava took the drawing and hung it up over the fireplace. "A very beautiful sight indeed." Keerava viewed the girl's drawing over the fireplace, still smiling at the young girl's innocence. Sarila began to grin as well. Getting Keerava to laugh or even just to smile was like getting a Horker to get up onto its hind flippers and dance.

Sarila retrieved her backpack from its hiding place and gathered her belongings. "Lyvette, I have an important job to do. Stay here, I'll be back soon, okay?" Sarila informed the child. "Okay, my doll and I will wait for you to come back. She says 'goodbye!'" Lyvette picked up her doll and moved its arm to simulate waving. Sarila smiled and walked out of the Inn with Kharjo.

 _A new town, a new job, a new friend, and a new life. What could possibly go wrong?_


	13. Daunting Darkness

It was eerily quiet that night. Only two figures dashed through the daunting darkness. Sarila and Kharjo made their way to the lower levels of Riften. They crossed a small board over the canal to get to the Ratway entrance. Before the duo entered Sarila turned to Kharjo. "Here's the plan. Keep quiet, and if you suspect you've been detected, don't hesitate to put them down." Sarila notified her companion, who nodded in acknowledgement. Slowly, she pulled the metal knob of the door and entered the darkness of the Ratway with her new friend.

Sarila felt the humid air of the sewers caress her skin. She shook off any disgust she felt and snuck into the halls. She grew more and more nervous with each step she took. Sarila wasn't the strong, warrior type. In fact, she had never directly killed a person, not even a thief or bandit. She was able to hold her own in a small fight, but with no more than two people against her. Sarila mainly used her surrounding environment to her advantage, like hiding behind rocks, climbing up trees, or dashing away from any threat in large, open spaces. In the Ratway, there were few places to hide behind, there were no ledges or anything she could climb, and the tunnels seemed to be getting smaller and smaller.

Kharjo, however, was very tough, and could easily kill any threat if he tried. One perfect strike from Kharjo's sword could fatally wound or even kill an attacker on the spot. He was not quick, small, or agile like Sarila, though, and would have to find other means of safety in close scrapes.

Sarila was walking alongside the wall of the Ratway when she heard a slight growl very close by. Kharjo did not seem to hear it, and continued walking. "Kharjo! Quick! Get back!" Sarila hissed. Kharjo's eyes widened in surprise as he ducked behind the wall, just as the nearby skeever turned its head in their direction. The furry fiend sniffed the air a few times and continued about its merry way, failing to detect Sarila and Kharjo.

Sarila unsheathed her ebony dagger, snuck up behind the skeever, and quickly plunged her weapon into the ratlike creature's skull and pulled it out all in one movement. "Excellent work." Kharjo praised. "Now to keep an eye out for more of those things…and people, too." Sarila murmured.

Thankfully, their travel in the Ratway had been quick and simple. The duo approached the door next to the sign that read "The Ragged Flagon." Sarila chuckled. "Sounds like some kind of tavern. Interesting façade choice." Sarila noted.

Sarila told Kharjo to head back up to the Inn and keep an eye on Lyvette. "Take care, and do be careful. This one does not want one of his only friends to perish." Kharjo warned. Sarila slowly and quietly opened the door to the Flagon. She had heard laughter and voices of several men. One of them she had immediately recognized as Brynjolf, due to his unmistakable accent.

"You're kiddin' yourself, Bryn. You remember what happened to those other protégés you rounded up? Gone. Done. Finished." Someone laughed. "Yeah, and that one guy…what was his name…Druvyen? The bloodstains are still a permanent part of that wall, Brynjolf!" Another person joked. "What makes you think this new one is so special? She can't be better than me, that's for sure." A snooty woman sneered. "In fact, she's probably lying dead in the Ratway right now." The same voice added. Sarila then approached their area of conversation. "I don't think I'm dead. Do I seem dead to you?" Sarila grinned in accomplishment. "Actually, you do look like something that crawled out of the graveyard up there…so you actually do seem dead to me." The snooty woman grumbled. "Say that again and I'll show you who's dead." Sarila glared at the woman with her violet eyes. Her eyes darted to Brynjolf when he began speaking. "Well, well, lass. Color me impressed. You made it all the way down here, and you're still in one piece." He acknowledged, clearly impressed. "Heh, thanks! I wasn't really aware there was going to be a welcoming committee waiting for me in the Ratway, though." Sarila joked, earning a little bit of laughter from the thieves. Sarila looked around the Ragged Flagon. "This place is really neat. It actually almost looks like a genuine tavern!" Sarila complimented. "It _is_ a genuine tavern!" A man with a broom and an apron glared at her intensely. "Oops…sorry…" Sarila trailed off, embarrassed. "Easy, lass. Vekel's a bit overly-defensive of this place. He didn't mean to upset you." Brynjolf reassured.

"Now, let's get down to business. I have a final test for you. It should be no trouble for you, seeing your skill so far. There are some deadbeats who owe our organization some serious coin, and they've decided not to pay. I need you to collect their debts. Just one more rule, and it is of utmost importance. Don't. Kill. Anybody." Brynjolf sternly commanded. Sarila nodded in agreement. "Just tell me who they are, and I'll be back with the debts." Sarila eagerly urged him. "The people who owe us are Keerava, Haelga, and Bersi Honey-Hand. They're all very stubborn, so you have your work cut out for you. Good luck." Brynjolf informed her as she was going out the door.


	14. Extortion, Blackmail, And Intimidation

Sarila made her way to the Bee and Barb first. She had found out that Keerava had family on a farm in Morrowind, and she could use it as leverage against her. When Sarila entered the Inn, she casually took a seat at the bar. Keerava was wiping the bar with a wet rag. Sarila cleared her throat. "Brynjolf says you owe him some money. Please pay up what you owe." Sarila took the kind and gentle approach first. Keerava froze. She stopped wiping the bar and gritted her teeth. "You tell that good for nothing scumbag that I'm NOT paying!" She yelled. Sarila sighed. "I really don't want to have to pay that farm in Morrowind a visit." Sarila's lips tugged upwards into a smile.

Keerava's eyes widened in shock and horror. "You're bluffing! You are! I know it!" Keerava was clearly in denial. "I don't bluff." Sarila narrowed her eyes. Suddenly, Keerava's fist swept upward, just missing Sarila's pretty face. Sarila raised her fists. "Just calm down! All I'm asking for is the gold! Just the gold!" Sarila appeased. "I'm not paying!" Keerava continued to resist. Keerava spun around; her tough, scaly tail slicing Sarila's scarred cheek. Blood began to seep from her wound once more, and Sarila was prepared to fight.

Sarila raised her right fist and connected it with Keerava's left eye. Blood began to pour out of her newly injured eye. This brawl was beginning to attract attention. Sarila kicked Keerava in the stomach, knocking her to the ground. Sarila lifted up a barstool. "Ready to pay up yet, lizard?" Sarila hissed. "N-never!" Keerava screeched. Sarila lifted the barstool over her head, preparing to bring it down on the stubborn Argonian woman when she heard a high-pitched shriek.

"No!" Sarila stopped what she was doing. She turned around to see Lyvette wide-eyed and frightened. "P-please! Don't kill her!" Lyvette begged. Sarila thought back to what Brynjolf said. _"Don't. Kill. Anybody."_ Sarila looked back into Lyvette's terrified eyes. She sighed and put the barstool down.

Keerava dashed behind her bar once more, rooted around, and lifted up a heavy coinpurse. Her eyes were filled with tears, her scaly face was streaked with sweat and blood. "Here! Take it! I hope Brynjolf chokes on his gold!" She spat, and tossed the stuffed pouch at Sarila, who caught it with one hand. Sarila walked by Talen-Jei who glared at her fiercely, and Lyvette who looked at Sarila with her scared, trusting, blue eyes which were beginning to fill with tears. "I'm sorry." Sarila quietly mumbled. She watched as Kharjo ushered Lyvette back to their room, and she left the Inn.

Sarila's next target was Haelga, a follower of Dibella who ran the nearby bunkhouse. She had heard that Haelga owned a valuable Dibella statue that she worshipped during a session of gossip with Keerava. Sarila frowned. It hurt to think of Keerava. Every time she would see her face, she thought, she would remember what she had done to Keerava, Talen-Jei, and Lyvette.

Sarila closed the bunkhouse doors behind her and shivered. It had a mighty bad draft in here. "You lost?" A young woman sweeping the floor asked. Sarila ignored her and walked towards a dresser which held the valuable golden Dibella statue atop it. Sarila wiped the blood off her hands and off her cheek. She reached out and picked up the golden statue.

She approached the blonde woman at the counter known as Haelga herself. "So, Haelga, a little birdy told me that you owe Brynjolf some serious Septims. Give 'em here, and I won't drop this statue down the town well." Sarila threatened with a stoic expression plastered on her face. Haelga's jaw dropped. "No, not lady Dibella! Here, just take them! I can't afford to lose my only item of value!" Haelga shrieked as she threw a satchel of coins to Sarila, and grabbed her precious statue. _Next stop, Bersi Honey-Hand._

Bersi Honey-Hand perked up when he saw Sarila enter the Pawned Prawn. His eyes widened in horror and his hands shook and shuddered with each movement he made. "Oh no…you're the one from Brynjolf's outfit!" Bersi exclaimed, petrified. "Very smart, Bersi. You'd be smarter to hand over what you owe, or else you'll be cleaning up little shards of your beloved dwarven urn." Sarila urged. Bersi dropped the coinpurse directly into her hands, no arguments, and no questions asked. "By far the easiest person I've dealt with all day." Sarila quietly murmured.

Sarila dropped all three coinpurses into Brynjolf's hands with multiple jingles and rattles of the coins inside. "Here are the payments. No death, no carnage, just coin." Sarila informed her superior. "Impressive…the coin was a secondary mission, we truly just wanted to let them know that our guild is not to be trifled with." Brynjolf explained. "And believe me, I don't think they'll hesitate to pay off their debts later on. I saw to that." Sarila commented. Brynjolf began to smile, and his smile evolved into a large grin. "I think we'll really enjoy your company, lass." Brynjolf stated, still grinning. Sarila walked over to the bar to get a drink. "Oh, and lass?" Brynjolf called. Sarila turned her head. "What is it?" She asked. "I never did catch your name…" Brynjolf shrugged. "Sarila. The name's Sarila."


	15. Healing Wounds

Sarila sighed and dangled her dainty arms over the canal railing. She had met Mercer Frey, the leader of the Thieves' Guild, who had assigned her to a supposedly impossible job at Goldenglow Estate. She wasn't particularly fond of this man. Sarila continued to contemplate her life. Her thoughts focused on earlier's events when she had to get the gold everyone owed. _I can't believe I extorted money from all those people. Just like a common bandit. Gods…_

Sarila couldn't stop thinking about how much she had hurt Bersi, Haelga, Keerava…and Lyvette. Sarila frowned. She didn't mean to frighten Lyvette. She just wanted the gold, and ended up nearly killing Keerava over it.

 _I need to apologize to Keerava, Talen, and Lyvette. I think what I did went too far over the boundary._ Sarila gathered her courage and sauntered into the Bee and Barb.

Sarila was met with the glaring eyes of an enraged Talen-Jei. "You have some nerve coming back here after what you did to Keerava." He hissed through gritted teeth. Talen-Jei stole a glance over his shoulder at his lover, whose left eye was covered in a bloody bandage after Sarila punched it.

"I know. I'm sorry. So sorry. I came back to make amends with you both. What I did went over the line, and it wasn't okay." Sarila reasoned. Talen-Jei's glare softened a bit. "Is there anything you need help with? Anything at all?" Sarila asked the angry Argonian.

Talen-Jei scratched his scaly chin with his claws. "Actually, there is something," he began. Keerava and I plan to be married officially with an Argonian ceremony. To accomplish this, I need to make a ring. The base ring is already forged, but I need three flawless amethysts to complete it. The one in the center is the Hist, the entity all Argonians worship, and the other two are for the couple to be married, one for the husband, and one for the wife." Talen-Jei explained.

Sarila felt something in her mind click. She had stolen from Madesi's jewelry stall in the market, and had picked up some jewels and gems. She had remembered that three of them were flawless amethysts, one was a garnet, and another was a sapphire. _These are stolen, but if they're put into a ring, nobody will ever have to know…_

"Ah, yeah, think I might have a few of those." Sarila dug around in her backpack. Talen-Jei's eyes widened when he watched Sarila's hands open to reveal three amethysts, as flawless as can be. "I…oh…oh my! I cannot believe this. I…I thank you… _we_ thank you." Talen-Jei's frown turned into a cheerful smile and his once glaring eyes filled with tears of joy. He took the three flawless amethysts from Sarila's hands and began to affix them into the ring.

Sarila watched as Talen-Jei rushed over to Keerava, holding the newly affixed ring. Sarila could not hear what they were saying in the crowded tavern, but she could see them both smiling and their eyes welling up with tears. Talen-Jei pulled Keerava into a tight embrace, still laughing and brimming with joy. Talen-Jei waved to Sarila as he hugged Keerava. Sarila began to smile and wave to the happy couple.

 _So I've made up with Talen and Keerava…that just leaves…Lyvette._ Sarila's smile turned into a frown when she remembered the look of utter terror she had seen on Lyvette's face when she was about to smash Keerava with the barstool. Sarila began to walk up the stairs to their room. Kharjo was reading a book, "Horker Attacks," and Lyvette was stroking her doll.

Lyvette's blue eyes became saddened when she saw Sarila approaching. "Sarila?" Lyvette quietly called to the older woman. "Why did you hurt Miss Keerava?" she inquired, with her big, sad, blue eyes. "I didn't mean to hurt her. I had to get some gold from her, as a part of my job. She wouldn't pay, and she got angry at me. I told her to calm down, but she attacked me, and I was left with no choice but to fight back." Sarila explained to the child.

"M-Miss Keerava hurt you?" Lyvette asked, startled. "Yes, sweetheart. She did." Sarila patted Lyvette's hair. "Where? Can I see?" Lyvette requested. Sarila pointed to her newly bandaged cheek, where Keerava's tail had sliced the skin. "It's under this bandage." Sarila told the girl. "Can I see it? Please? Pretty please?" Lyvette begged with a smile. Sarila sighed. She either had to show the girl her cut, or she'd never hear the end of it.

Sarila lifted her bandage a little bit. She heard dried blood cracking when she moved the bandage. "Ewww! That's yucky!" Lyvette pouted and stuck out her tongue in disgust. Lyvette's eyes focused on something else on Sarila's face. "What's that? Is that a scar? How did you get it? When did you get it?" Lyvette barraged her with questions. Sarila chuckled at the little child and her curiosity. "You know what they always say, 'Curiosity killed the Khajiit!'" Sarila joked. "I'll tell you about my scar another time, when I'm ready." Sarila reassured the girl.

"Okay…" Lyvette replied, a little disappointed. Lyvette returned to playing with her doll. Sarila felt a weight lifted off her shoulders. She now knew that she had made amends with the people she had hurt most. _Things are starting to look up. Tomorrow, though, I have the Goldenglow job. This might not end in the way I expected._


	16. Dreams, Teams, And Brand-New Schemes

Sarila quickly awakened.

 _Mmmrrm? Am I…am I dreaming again? Is this the same dream? Home…?_

Sure enough, Sarila's surroundings were her old room in the cabin. Her small wood and fur cot, her oak dresser, and a tiny wood chair with some books near it. Suddenly, the scent of her mother's unique boiled creme treats drifted to her nose.

 _This must be the same dream! Or is it different? It just feels so…familiar…hmm…_

Sarila was still very disoriented in her dreamlike state, and she barely noticed her mother's cheerful voice calling her for breakfast.

"Silly-Sarilly, breakfast has been prepared!" Her mother's squeaky voice chirped. Sarila once again shot out of bed and dashed down the wooden steps of her childhood cabin, once again realizing she was a child in her dream.

Sarila's eyes widened when she saw the welcoming glazing of the creme treats, and they widened even more when her vision focused on what accompanied them: honey nut treats. Honey nut treats were rather hard to come by in the forest, so Sarila concluded that her father had brought some back after he had returned from one of his trips to the nearby city, Whiterun.

Sarila's mother scooped her daughter into a large hug. As soon as Sarila was released from her mother's grasp, she pranced over to the kitchen table and began to dig into her breakfast. She felt the warming sensation of the honey nut treat melting on her tongue. _It's been so long since I've had one of these…_

"Mother?" Sarila began to ask. Her mother looked up at her, ready to answer her question. "Where is father? And Ysgrig?" Sarila inquired, curious to know the whereabouts of her father and brother. "Your father went to Whiterun for an important meeting of some sort…something about the Empire banning the worship of Talos. Ysgrig went outside to play with his brand-new toy sword." Sarila's mother replied.

Sarila smiled. Her brother had always wanted a toy sword, and he had gotten one as a present for New Life. Sarila had gotten a beautiful ring, one that had an engraving of a Luna Moth in its silver. After Sarila had finished eating, she walked outside. The forest was beautiful to Sarila, a sanctuary for her thoughts. It was a place where she could feel at absolute peace, even if danger was lurking around every corner.

"Sis! Look what I just killed!" A recognizable childish voice called out. Sarila turned to her left to see her brother, Ysgrig, holding up a bloodied and battered rabbit. Sarila put her hand over her mouth in horror and disgust. "See? I did it myself! Isn't that great? I'm a soldier!" Ysgrig proudly announced, holding up his small sword in accomplishment. "Ysgrig, that's horrible! That poor little rabbit must have been scared to death before you killed it! Shame on you!" Sarila scolded. "If he was scared to death, I wouldn't have been able to kill him; he would have been dead already!" Ysgrig retaliated sarcastically.

Sarila sighed and walked over to a small clearing where she found some lovely flowers a month before. She picked several blue mountain flowers, since they were her favorites. She stopped picking flowers when she saw several figures in the distance. She couldn't tell who or what they were, but she could hear talking.

 _Huh? Those voices sound extremely familiar…but from where?_

Suddenly, the flowers began to fly out of Sarila's hand and up into the blue sky of Skyrim. The rest of the flowers began to follow suit, and so did the woodland. The entire forest began to ascend in the air, much to Sarila's disbelief, and eventually, Sarila floated up as well. A hole formed in the sky, and Sarila flew right into it.

Sarila's eyes opened after her dream had come to a strange, abrupt end. She heard more talking, except she could immediately recognize the voices. _Oh! Those voices in my dream belonged to Lyvette and Kharjo!_

Sarila rubbed her eyes and yawned as she stood up from her bed. She walked out of the Inn room they had rented and walked into the room with a table and some chairs, where Lyvette and Kharjo were sitting. Sarila edged close enough to hear their conversation.

"How did the Redguard hurt his foot?" Lyvette asked.

"I do not know. How did he?" Kharjo questioned.

"His Hammerfell!" Lyvette finished her joke, earning a chuckle from Kharjo.

"This one enjoys your jokes. They bring peace to his heart. Please, tell another one." Kharjo encouraged Lyvette. "Okay! Let me think…hmmm…ooh! I got one! I got one!" Lyvette flailed her arms in excitement.

"What do you call a frog in Windhelm?" Lyvette asked, trying to hold back a small giggle.

"What?" Kharjo waited for her answer.

"A Storm-croak!" Lyvette burst into fits of giggles. Sarila walked over to the table her two friends were sitting at. "Those were very good jokes, Lyvette. You are a clever, clever girl." Sarila praised, patting the child's head. Lyvette smiled and began to play with her hair. "Kharjo, I'll need you to watch Lyvette. I have an important job to run today." Sarila told the Khajiit. "Do not worry. Khajiit guards her back." Kharjo reassured.

Sarila walked back into her room and took out her ebony dagger. _This job will be dangerous, without a doubt. I'll need my luck ritual._ She wiped the dagger off once more. Sarila closed her eyes and clutched the dagger's hilt in the palm of her hands.

 _Father, mother, sweet, sweet brother, I call for your help today…_

 _Grant me the power of strength like a tower, and not like a tree might sway…_

 _Give me the swiftness and wits of a steed; these are the qualities I just might need…_

 _Thank you for your love, your gazes above, and with caution, I will succeed._

Sarila then made another slight cut to her scarred cheek. She paid no mind to the stinging sensation in her facial nerves, nor to the blood pouring from her cheek. Instead, Sarila focused on preparing for the task that lay ahead of her.

As Sarila cleaned the blood from her dagger, she began to think of ways to infiltrate Goldenglow. She had heard someone mention something in the Ragged Flagon about a sewage pipe, but didn't think to ask whoever mentioned it where it was located.

Sarila then began to wonder what she'd do to deal with all the mercenaries. She wasn't very strong, but she was light and quick on her feet. Sarila wanted to just sneak by them all, but it wouldn't be so simple. She began to fear she would have to kill some to get inside. Sarila shuddered at the thought. She had never directly killed another person.

Sure, Sarila had inadvertently led the hungry bear to the Argonian thief who was trying to kill her, but that was on a whim. She was trying to think out her plan, but instead had to settle for the bear and thief fighting to the death. And of course Sarila had caused the bandit who was robbing Kharjo and the Khajiit caravan to fall off the ledge, which ended with him being impaled by his own sword. Sarila had caused two deaths, and both of them were indirectly caused.

Sarila's confidence began to falter when she had the thought of killing another person—a mercenary—just so she could enter an estate and rob the owner blind.

 _I'm going to need more than just luck for this one…_


	17. Sweet As Honey, Deadly As Draugr

Sarila shakily strolled up the bridge to Goldenglow Estate. Her beautiful ebony dagger rested peacefully in its sheath. She approached a gate with a wooden door blocking the entrance to the estate. "Halt! Stop right there! Don't move another step forward!" A booming voice of an Orc mercenary called. Sarila froze immediately, sweat quickly beading up on her forehead. She heard the mercenary chattering with someone behind him. The Orc turned around and focused his brown eyes on Sarila. "State your business here." He snarled fiercely. Sarila decided she would use trickery to deceive him. Nobody had to get hurt. After all, this wasn't the Dark Brotherhood.

"My daughter is sick with a throat infection. She requested I buy some honey to make her throat feel a bit better, and I've heard many rumors of Goldenglow being a very excellent bee farm. And of course, where there are bees, there is honey." Sarila lied, adopting an innocent look upon her gorgeous face. The Orc once again turned to converse with another person, possibly to ask for advice on how to deal with the situation at hand. He turned around once more to face the frightened woman. "Very well. Proceed inside, but know that we'll be watching your every move, so don't even think about trying anything." He commanded Sarila with a curt nod.

Sarila slowly walked inside the gate. She looked around and finally noticed the beehives. Brynjolf had sternly instructed her to only burn three of them. She didn't want to disobey him, as if she did, she might have to go without eating that night. Sarila knew this was going to be a dilemma. The mercenaries were watching her like hawks stalking their unknowing prey. Her mind suddenly hatched an idea. She turned around to look for anything that could serve as a quick distraction. She squinted and saw a cave bear off in the distance near the bridge. Sarila looked around to see anything that could attract the monstrosity.

Sure enough, there was a jar of golden, gleaming honey on a wooden table. Sarila innocently strolled over and pretended to bump the table, causing the jar to fall off and shatter, the sticky liquids dripping onto the cobblestone pavement as the porcelain of the jar scattered on various parts of the ground. The shattering of the jar got the mercenaries' attention, and the ferocious bear's attention as well. "Oh, Gods. I'm very sorry, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. " Sarila sheepishly shrugged. The scent of honey reached the hungry bear's nose, and in no time at all, he was lumbering towards the estate. "Bear!" Sarila yelled loudly, pointing to the front gate. "Bear? Where?" One of the mercenaries drew his iron sword. He was soon tackled to the ground and was clawed by the bear, crimson blood flowing from his chest and face. "Aaaarghh! Bear THERE!" He screamed while slashing at the bear's face in an attempt to get it off of him.

While the mercenaries battled the beast, Sarila readied her flames spell. She let the crackling flames spew from her right hand onto one, two, and finally three beehives. Sarila then proceeded to sneak inside the estate while the mercenaries continued to fight the bear. It was only a matter of time before they noticed the beehives ablaze, and Sarila missing.

Inside, Sarila searched for the safe and realized it was either at the top of the estate or in the cellar. Sarila continued to rummage around until she found a chest. Inside the chest was 60 glittering gold Septims, which she pocketed quickly, and an outfit that resembled a mercenary's. Sarila's brain immediately thought up a new plan.

Three minutes later, Sarila was wearing the armor that the mercenaries wore, and her regular clothes underneath it. She walked by several mercenaries who did not even take notice of her, and continued their heated debate about the best type of Skooma. Finally, Sarila came across some stairs, which she quickly scampered down after unlocking the large iron door in front of them, and a wooden door, presumably to the cellar of the estate.

Sarila scurried into the cellar and opened another wooden door. She slowly and cautiously walked down the torchlight hallway and turned right. She followed that path until she came across reddish purple oil on the ground. She dispelled her flames spell and instead drew her ebony dagger from its sheath. Sarila was not going to become a human variation of charred skeever hide today. She slowly traversed the oily floor when she saw another mercenary sitting in a chair. "How go the patrols? All's quiet?" He asked her. Sarila grew nervous, hoping to not give herself away as an infiltrator for the Thieves' Guild. "Ermm…all seems to be quiet so far. Nothing unusual." Sarila replied, and quickly walked past him.

She walked down the stairs and her eyes widened when she saw the silver safe's gleaming metals before her. She crept up to it and tried to open it, but the safe door wouldn't budge. Sarila examined the lock on it, and determined it to be an expert lock, a lock she had very little experience with. Suddenly, the same mercenary she had just talked to walked over behind her. "What are you doing?" He asked suspiciously. Sarila's mind raced to an excuse the mercenary might validate.

"I'm trying to teach myself how to pick locks, but I'm kind of stuck on this one." Sarila nervously stated, hoping the mercenary was stupid enough to believe her. The mercenary gave a hearty laugh. "Well, lucky for you, I'm an expert at this kind of thing! Watch and learn." The mercenary confidently instructed her. Sarila stood back and curiously watched as the man pulled a lockpick from his bag and began to twist and fiddle with the lock. A loud click was heard and the safe door came open with a light pull. "See? I'm a master at picking locks!" The mercenary proudly complimented himself.

"Yes, you are very talented indeed…" Sarila pulled out an iron ingot from the safe and whacked him over the head with it. The gullible mercenary fell over with a thud, clearly knocked out from the blow. "Talented with lockpicks, gullible for trickery." Sarila mused to herself, clearing the safe of all its valuables, and tucking the Goldenglow Bill of Sale she recovered carefully into her pocket. Sarila dashed to the right and opened an iron bar door, leading to the Goldenglow sewers.

As the sun set, Sarila safely returned to the city of Riften, with very few injuries. The only injuries she had received was a small bite on the right arm from a skeever, and another cut on her scarred cheek from a mercenary's dagger. Blood continued to seep out of her cheek's wound per usual, but Sarila paid no mind as she strode to the Riften cemetery behind the Temple of Mara. She pressed the button on the large coffin in the crypt and watched as it revealed the secret entrance to the Cistern.

She was immediately greeted by a certain red-haired thief. "Word on the street is Goldenglow's been hit. Good job, lass." Brynjolf praised with a devious smile. "Indeed. Here's what was in the safe." Sarila handed over the Goldenglow Bill of Sale from her pocket. "Let me take a look at what you found." Brynjolf took the Bill of Sale and examined it carefully. His emerald eyes grew wide with shock. "Aringoth sold Goldenglow? What's that idiot thinking?" Brynjolf practically yelled. "He has no idea the extent of Maven's fury when she's been cut out of a deal, but I'm certain he'll find out." Brynjolf smugly stated, but still keeping a stern expression.

"If only the parchment had the buyer's name instead of this odd symbol. Any idea what that might be?" Brynjolf inquired, handing Sarila the Bill. Sarila examined it carefully, but could not think of anything. "No idea." She bluntly put it, handing the Bill of Sale back to Brynjolf. "Blast. Well, I'll check my sources and speak to Mercer." Brynjolf sighed. "But for now, you're off to speak to Maven Black-Briar. She asked for you by name." Brynjolf explained, giving Sarila a solemn look. "Good, it's about time I met her." Sarila eagerly replied with a slight smile. "Don't sound so eager, it's not a social visit. It's business." Brynjolf clarified, but returned a grin.

"What does Maven want from me?" Sarila curiously questioned, hoping to the Gods that she had not done anything to displease the matriarch of the Black-Briar family. "That's between you and Maven and I prefer to keep it that way." Brynjolf justified to the Nord. He sensed some anxiety in the woman, so he gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about it. Maven's business dealings usually involve quite a bit of gold for her people." Brynjolf calmly told Sarila.

Sarila perked up at the word gold. "Speaking of gold…" Sarila trailed off, giving him a knowing look. Brynjolf chuckled lightly. "Of course…your pay." He laughed once more. "You're smart as a whip, lass. Keep doing right by us and there's plenty more where that came from." Brynjolf tossed her a bag of 800 gold. Sarila's jaw dropped to the floor in complete surprise. 800 gold was certainly nothing to throw around. Brynjolf turned to walk over and speak with Mercer about the mysterious buyer's symbol. "And Brynjolf?" Sarila called over to him. Brynjolf slowly turned back around, tilting his head. "Thanks. Thanks for everything." Sarila thanked him warmly. Brynjolf smiled and gave a curt nod of understanding as he resumed to conversing with Mercer. He definitely wasn't going to be happy to hear this.

Sarila was certainly nervous about meeting Maven Black-Briar, because from what she had experienced, Maven had quite the grip on Riften's economic circulation. She had the Thieves' Guild at her back and the Jarl in her pocket. It seemed to Sarila that Maven was the one truly controlling Riften, and that Jarl Laila Law-Giver was just a puppet. Jarl or no Jarl, Maven or no Maven, Sarila was elated that she had received so much gold after completing this daunting task that even Vex, their master infiltrator, failed to execute properly. It was certainly going to make life much easier for her, and especially for Lyvette. Her luck, she thought, was finally beginning to take a turn for the better.


	18. The Lonely Man In Robes

Sarila drank her mead in silence. She was glad to finally be able to relax about paying for rooms and food for her, Lyvette, and Kharjo. Kharjo seemed to have enough gold to take care of himself; he had earned a fair amount from his caravan, even while repaying his debt to Ahkari.

Sarila's thoughts of success were interrupted when a loud, confident voice boomed throughout the tavern. "Why hire a common soldier to protect you when you can have a master of the arcane?" Sarila looked up from her beverage and looked around for the source of the voice. "Who said that?" She asked Keerava. "Oh. That's just Marcurio. He claims to be some 'master of the arcane.' Sure, he's powerful, but he'll drive you crazy after a while." Keerava whispered to the lovely young lady.

"Marcurio? I've never even seen him here before. I've never even _heard_ him." Sarila stated, clearly confused as to why she had not seen this character before. Keerava heartily chuckled. "You've never _heard_ him? Good gracious, girl! Are you deaf?" Keerava joked, laughing while wiping down the bar. "That Imperial's as loud as the Red Mountain's eruption!" She quickly added, shaking her head and smiling.

Sarila finished her mead and got up from her seat at Keerava's bar and walked to the source of the man's voice. When she turned the corner, she saw an Imperial man in brown mage's robes sitting on the wooden bench. He turned to face her. "Ah, it's you again. Here to hire the greatest mage in Skyrim, or here to just gawk at the marvelous sight before you?" Marcurio asked, praising himself confidently. "You certainly are a cocky one, aren't you?" Sarila smiled at the man's boldness. "Of course I am! I'm Marcurio, master of the arcane arts, after all. I've seen you around the tavern, but never got a chance to meet you. Who are you?" Marcurio questioned.

"My name is Sarila. I've only been in town for a couple of weeks." Sarila introduced herself. "Say, what brings you to Riften anyway?" Marcurio tilted his head in curiosity. "My friend and I were traveling the woods and we got attacked. I went down a river and eventually ended up in Riften with the girl you see over there. She's Lyvette." Sarila explained, pointing towards Lyvette.

"Where's her father?" Marcurio asked, biting into a loaf of bread. "He's dead." Sarila bluntly answered, shrugging. Marcurio's hazel eyes began to show genuine sympathy. "Oh…Gods, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have asked. I can only imagine how hard it was for you." He apologized to the Nord woman. Sarila's face soon turned confused. "What?" She suddenly came to a realization of Marcurio's quick inference.

"I'm not her mother, actually. I just found her in the forest being attacked by some wolves. Her foot was stuck, and I just swooped in and saved her. Her real parents died long ago, she told me." Sarila clarified to the Imperial mage. "Perhaps you'd like a master of the arcane to travel with you on your many adventures, and perhaps assist you on your daring rescue of your friend?" Marcurio requested with a hopeful gleam in his eyes. "After all, why settle for just stabbing your foes when you can roast them alive in a gout of arcane fire?" Marcurio grinned as he cracked his knuckles.

Sarila's interest was piqued at this witty statement. "How much?" "500 Septims, miss!" Marcurio answered, quite sure of himself. "Only 500? Well, that was an easy decision. Consider yourself hired, Imperial." Sarila smiled as she handed him a satchel of 500 Septims, shaking his hand. Marcurio gratefully took the satchel from his new employer. "With a master of magic at your side, you'll have nothing to fear." He proudly assured the gorgeous woman. "When, exactly, do we start, though?" Marcurio quietly asked her, lowering his voice after he had received several looks of distaste and multiple glares.

"We'll start tomorrow. I have a job to do in Whiterun, and I possibly need to search for my friend along the way, just in case. She could still be alive for all I know, and I can't risk leaving her to die." Sarila informed her new companion. "Well, whenever we leave, wherever we go, whatever we do, and whoever we meet, I can assure you that you won't regret the decision of hiring a master of the arcane arts!" Marcurio triumphantly declared.

Sarila began to walk back over to Lyvette, who was nibbling on some carrots. Sarila watched as a patron known as Indaryn, the brewmaster at the Black-Briar Meadery, approached Marcurio and yelled at him to keep his voice down. "By the Gods, you need to learn to just shut your blasted mouth! That poor young woman probably won't be able to put up with you for even a day, just like the last employer you had!" Indaryn angrily spat.

"Now, now, Indaryn, who's the master mage here?" Marcurio pointed to himself with both hands and gave the Dunmer a smug grin. Indaryn growled and stormed over to Keerava's bar where he flung a coinpurse at Keerava, and in return, she slid a bottle of wine over to his spot on the table. He uncorked the bottle with his mouth and began to drink the liquid. One of his employees, Romlyn Dreth, moved over to sit next to his boss.

"Bet you ten shiny Septims that the wizard won't last a full three days?" Romlyn challenged with a sly expression upon his grey, wrinkled face. Indaryn turned to face his worker. "You've got yourself a deal, Dreth." The brewmaster declared, accepting Romlyn's bet.

While Sarila was polishing off the last of her second bottle of mead, she saw from the corner of her eye that Marcurio had leaned over in the bench, his face buried in his hands. Sarila didn't care what the others thought, she was going to give this confident but lonely soul a chance to prove himself, a chance for redemption. Even if he was annoying, she wouldn't give up on him. _That's a promise._


	19. Sights Set

Sarila's gorgeous violet eyes slowly eased open.

 _Nnngh…what? Is it this dream again? Am I returning home once more?_

Sarila got up from her small cot and walked over to the wall where her small, brown shoes rested. She slipped them on her feet and shivered from the unusual chill that day. Sarila yawned and rubbed her eyes, and began to trot downstairs.

Sarila stopped in her tracks when she passed by her window. The usual gleaming of sunlight was gone, and in its place, there was the light of the shining Twin Moons. _Nighttime? Why is it nighttime in this dream but daytime in the previous two?_

Sarila snapped out of her contemplations when she heard voices. She carefully crept to her wooden door and lightly put her ear against it, hoping to find out what was being talked about. "I'm telling you, Fridki, the new Stormcloak rebellion will prevail one day, and when that day comes, I will be standing with them on the battlefield, sword raised in triumph." Sarila's father explained. "Battori…you must listen to me. These Stormcloaks, while they have honor and courage, walk a dangerous path. I love you, my dear, and I love our children much more than anything else on Nirn. I will support you no matter what course of action you choose…but you must know my opinion…and it is that this is a very foolish idea." Her mother reasoned.

"I know, love…but I cannot bear to see the Empire-the _Elves_ -control us this way. They are taking away our way of life. First they ban the worship of Talos, what next? Will they ban drinking mead? Will they ban sword training? We cannot obey their idiotic demands; otherwise we will be no better than the Aldmeri Dominion." Her father continued. Sarila could hear the frown in his voice. "You speak very fondly of this cause…you have not erased any of the doubts I have, but I love you, and I will acknowledge your wishes. Please…just promise me to be careful." Her mother pleaded, her once happy voice welling up. "I swear to the Divines, I will be as careful as any man could be." He concluded reassuringly.

"Come on, Battori. We must finish tending to the garden." Sarila stopped listening at the door when she heard footsteps. She quietly gasped and frantically looked around. Her eyes stopped when they caught sight of her cot, and in less than a second, Sarila flopped down onto her bed and pretended to sleep. The door opened with a loud creak. Sarila felt someone shaking her. "Sarila! Saaaarrriiiilllaaa!" Ysgrig's annoying voice quietly yelled. Sarila sat up and sighed with relief. "I thought you were mom or dad. What do you want?" She asked, straightening her frizzy hair.

"Dad's joining the new rebellion! The Stormcloaks!" Ysgrig exclaimed, rapidly waving his arms. "I know, I was listening to them talk just a minute ago. This sounds bad." Sarila worriedly stated. "Bad? It sounds so cool! He's gonna be a soldier! A REAL SOLDIER!" Ysgrig shouted. "Shh! Ysgrig! Keep it down!" Sarila hissed through gritted teeth. "Okay, okay…sorry." Ysgrig reluctantly apologized, scratching the back of his head.

"What if the Elves come here? They might be angry with dad and try to hurt him!" Sarila nervously bit her lip. "I'll chase them all away like a big, brave beasty!" Ysgrig proudly declared. "Big? _Brave?_ Ysgrig, you're barely taller than Lyda the cow! And don't get me started on bravery, when you saw that itty-bitty skeever the other day, you screamed like a draugr was chasing you!" Sarila pointed out and crossed her arms. Ysgrig huffed in annoyance. "I was only pretending! I wasn't afraid of-well…why do you care so much anyway? I'm going to bed!" Ysgrig stuck his tongue out and stomped back to his room, slamming the door behind him.

Sarila was about to dive back under her warm, comforting covers, but she heard the sounds of marching. She got up from her cheap cot and peered out the window. She saw the flashing lights of torches-twenty, to be exact, and saw two lines of ten Altmer, both male and female alike striding proudly through the lines. Sarila eyed the glint of their shiny elven armor, and the sharpness of their blades and maces. The lights of the torches began to grow brighter and brighter, until Sarila wasn't sure if she was dreaming or returning to reality.

"Sarila! Sarila! Come on, please wake up, pretty please?" Lyvette's squeaky voice cheerfully pleaded. Sarila's eyes opened fully, the sun's brightness from one of the windows flooding her eyes as she squinted. "Yes, Lyvette?" Sarila responded, rubbing her eyes as they adjusted to the invasive streams of sunlight. "There's a man here, he says he's going on an adventure with you!" Lyvette squealed giddily. "Tell him I'll be right out, and tell him to meet me downstairs at Keerava's bar." Sarila commanded the child. "Okay! Promise me when you come back you'll get me a Sweetroll and tell me the story?" Lyvette playfully pouted with her big, forgiving eyes.

Sarila laughed heartily. "Of course I will, sweetie." She ruffled the little girl's ebony hair. "Okay, I'm going to go play with Kharjo. He says he's going to teach me how to use big words, so I can sound in-tel-li-gent." Lyvette broke the word into littler sounds to pronounce it correctly. "Well, have fun being in-tel-li-gent." Sarila mimicked with a grin. Lyvette smiled and rushed back out of the room, presumably to go find her Khajiit friend.

Sarila slipped out of her large, loosely-fitting nightgown, and grabbed her light-blue dress, quickly slithering into it. She then grabbed each item in her set of Thieves' Guild armor and separated them all. She first stepped into her leathery chestplate, and then fastened her gloves carefully around her arms and carefully slid her fingers into the clothing. She put one foot in one of her boots, then the other in the other boot. Finally, Sarila draped the hood over her head, fastening it to the chestplate, and tucked her ebony dagger into her weapon sheath.

Sarila made her way down the stairs and recognized Marcurio's know-it-all tone of voice immediately. She approached the bar slowly, listening in on the conversation between Marcurio and Keerava. "And I told you I'd get an employer, but you didn't believe me. I would say 'I told you so!', but I'm feeling remarkably generous today, so I'll spare you that extra dash of confidence." Marcurio gleefully guffawed. "Oh, really? Is it like that one time you got employed by the Nordic Noblewoman, or the other time you were hired by the Imperial Legate's daughter after a drunken party? Just keep your head down and your mouth shut, Marcurio." Keerava chided.

Marcurio turned his head at the sound of Sarila's approaching footsteps. "Ah, there you are. I can't believe you kept me waiting for so long. I get bored very easily." Marcurio dramatically emphasized. Sarila rolled her eyes. "I think you'll be okay." She sarcastically assured him. "Alright, so what's the plan here? Assuming you have one. If you don't, that's fine, I'm a man of many talents, and coming up with ideas is one of them." Marcurio cockily boasted, putting his hands on his hips proudly. "I was thinking we could just venture through the forest and woodlands, maybe search for my friend, then head northwest to Whiterun, complete the job, loop back, and rest at Riften for a bit until I get my next assignment." Sarila explained to the Imperial spellsword.

"About your friend…" Marcurio began to ask, but stopped when he saw Sarila's eyes sadden. "No, go on." Sarila urged, waiting for him to finish his question. "Well, do you know what she looks like? I might know her, because after all, I have met plenty of interesting people on my adventures, though none nearly as interesting as myself." Marcurio continued, playfully priding himself, but still had a serious expression on his face.

Sarila was perplexed. She thought hard, trying to remember the details. She had known Ytri for so long, but had not seen her in a while, and was beginning to forget her appearance. "Well…her physique was tall and extremely slender, and she had long, brown hair, which was usually up in a ponytail. Her eyes were the color of a green apple. Oh, and she wore a reddish cloak, and around her neck was an amulet of Talos with her name carved into it. She loved that thing more than anything else she ever came across. As for her personality, she was often very bitter and depressed, but was otherwise kind to me. Her name is Ytri." Sarila described, as Marcurio listened, intent on remembering if he had seen her or not.

"I, uh, don't think I remember seeing any women like that. My apologies." Marcurio sincerely apologized. He frowned when he noticed Sarila seemed sadder than before. "It's okay…we can look for her. She might still be alive. I hope." Sarila whispered the last two words to herself as she turned away from her new companion, walking to the wooden door. "Come on, we've got a job to do." She beckoned, and Marcurio hurriedly sprinted over to her as she opened the door and exited the Inn.

* * *

 _Hey_ _guys, EpicGamergurl here. Sorry I haven't updated much. There's just been a lot going on, but don't worry, I'm still going to continue this fanfic. Just wanted to give you a sneak peek of the next chapter, which is going to be sort of long. Anyway...enjoy!_

* * *

Sarila continued to scour the forest in hopes of finding Ytri, but Marcurio was exhausted. He felt like he had just been dragged across Elsweyr. Marcurio mentally decided that he would be the one to break the silence between the two. "It's been a while…I don't think we're going to find your friend out here, Sarila." Marcurio whispered solemnly. "We have to. I owe her my life." Sarila hissed through gritted teeth. "You never did tell me much about your life, other than the fact you had a mother, father, brother, and that you and this Ytri woman lived out in the woodlands of Skyrim for nearly a decade." Marcurio commented, crossing his arms and tilting his head curiously, encouraging Sarila to share her story. Sarila bit her lip. "It's…it's complicated."

"Sarila! Help! Help me please!" Lyvette squealed, running and jumping everywhere to evade the ferocious cave bear and his knifelike claws and gnashing teeth. "Lyvette! Hold on, I'm coming to help you!" Sarila grasped her ebony dagger so tight in her palm that part of the blade drew blood from her hand. Sarila grunted as she tried to push the fallen tree off her leg. Marcurio shot ropes of lightning at the gnarly beast to draw it away from the defenseless little girl, to no avail. Lyvette stumbled upon a small rock coming from the rough dirt and landed in a splotch of mud. "No! NO! Sarila! Help me!" Lyvette wailed, tears streaking her now filthy face as the hungry bear bounded towards her. Sarila felt she might faint from sheer terror as the cave bear was a foot away from the child. "LYVETTE! NO!"

Sarila limped along the trail with Qattindra, Caehir, and Reea'th. "Our leader is a rather nice man, had a very traumatizing childhood, though. He lost his whole family in one night, the poor fellow. You lost your folks too, so I think you and he will be able to get along and relate just fine." Caehir informed Sarila as the small group approached the iron door to the abandoned fortress.

"Sir, we found a woman on the trail. She and her friends were being attacked. Is it alright if we have Sa'etha fix her up?" Qattindra called out to someone in the next room. "Hmm. Fine. But bring her in here before you do anything else, I'd like to meet this person." A voice from behind the wooden door replied sternly. "Go on in, I'm sure you two will get along just fine." Qattindra assured. Sarila was quite nervous, and slowly opened the moldy wooden door, her hands shaking in fear. Her eyes widened in complete shock. "W-what?! **You're…you're alive?!** "


	20. Bleeding

Marcurio and Sarila wandered the forests of The Rift for three hours. There was a nip in the air, and trotting of foxes and the beating of elk hooves echoed throughout the wilderness. Sticks, twigs, and leaves crunched beneath Sarila's Thieves' Guild boots. Marcurio was curious about his new employer. She hadn't told him much, save for that she had a deceased family and that she and her missing friend lived in the wilds.

"Err…Sarila?" Marcurio sheepishly began, but stopped when Sarila gave him an intimidating look. "She's here somewhere. I just know it." Sarila ignored his attempt at starting a question. "It's not that, it's…well…I thought I heard footsteps." Marcurio nervously told her, sweat beading up on his forehead. "It's probably just a fox or a wild goat. You're a 'master of the arcane,' it shouldn't be a problem for you." Sarila lightheartedly teased, but stuck to her task of searching for Ytri, determined to save her friend, or avenge her death.

Sarila continued to scour the forest in hopes of finding Ytri, but Marcurio was exhausted. He felt like he had just been dragged across Elsweyr. Marcurio mentally decided that he would be the one to break the silence between the two. "It's been a while…I don't think we're going to find your friend out here, Sarila." Marcurio whispered solemnly. "We have to. I owe her my life." Sarila hissed through gritted teeth. "You never did tell me much about your life, other than the fact you had a mother, father, brother, and that you and this Ytri woman lived out in the woodlands of Skyrim for nearly a decade." Marcurio commented, crossing his arms and tilting his head curiously, encouraging Sarila to share her story. Sarila bit her lip. "It's…it's complicated."

"But not complicated for a man as smart as me to understand." Marcurio grinned cheekily. Sarila lightly smiled at his ever-growing confidence, but still kept a serious tone. "I'll tell the world when I'm ready, I'm just not comfortable sharing what happened on that fateful day." Sarila appeased, looking down, hoping Marcurio wouldn't see her sadness. Unfortunately, he did. Marcurio deeply sighed. "I'm sorry, I just really wanted to get to know you better. After all, I'm going to be adventuring with you for a while." Marcurio comfortingly placed a hand on her shoulder. "Let's keep looking. Maybe she is still out here." Marcurio positively suggested, earning a smile from Sarila. "Thank you for helping me look for her. You don't know what this means to me. I just…thank you." Sarila smiled, feeling tears welling up in her eyes. "Don't mention it." The two disappeared further into the wilderness, the sound of footsteps still trailing not far behind.

Marcurio could have sworn he heard footsteps. He silently cursed himself for drinking two bottles of wine that morning. Suddenly he heard the footsteps again. He grabbed Sarila from behind. "Wait. Stop walking, and be quiet. I can hear someone following us again." Marcurio quietly informed. Sarila was a bit startled by Marcurio's unexpected grab, but went with it and stopped walking. Sure enough, the sound of leaves crunching under soft footsteps made its way to her ears. "Oh, dear. What's the plan here, Marcurio?" Sarila desperately rasped in fear. "Shh. We hide. Follow me." Marcurio motioned for Sarila to accompany him behind a large rock.

The two practically dove behind the rock. Marcurio poked his head out over the large landmark. "Stay here and be quiet, I'll find whatever is following us." Marcurio reassured. Sarila nodded in agreement and rested her hand on her trusty ebony dagger, still in its sheath. Marcurio swiftly crept out from behind the rock, an imperial sword in his right hand, and his sparks spell in his left one. Sarila heard the footsteps getting closer and closer until Sarila realized they were right next to her. She turned to her right and yelled in surprise when she saw the figure that had been stalking them. Her surprise and fright turned to confusion and cluelessness.

"Lyvette?!" Sarila half-asked, half-exclaimed. "Sarila!" Lyvette screeched happily, swallowing Sarila up into a big hug. Sarila lowered herself until she was eye-level with the child. "Lyvette, where's Kharjo, and why did you follow us out here?" Sarila sternly asked, raising an eyebrow. "When Kharjo was looking at a book I gave him, I snuck out and followed you. I wanted to go on the adventure with you!" She proudly declared. "But what happened to Kharjo's plan on teaching you communication skills?" Sarila questioned, irritated. "I told him I didn't need them. I'm going to be an adventurer, just like you!" Lyvette stood proud and tall with her hands on her hips.

"Lyvette, you shouldn't have run out here on your own! It's very dangerous out here, you could have gotten hurt, or even killed! I don't know what I would do if I lost you!" Sarila cried, hugging the child. Lyvette's blue eyes grew wide with sorrow and regret. "I-I'm sorry…I lived out here for so long, I thought it would be okay…" Lyvette sadly trailed off, guiltily staring down at her feet. "It's fine, you are forgiven, but please be more careful, Lyvette. You don't have any adult with you, and you have no experience with defense." Sarila lectured.

Suddenly, Marcurio came dashing by. "Sarila! Bear! Cave bear! Back there!" Marcurio frantically choked out in between gasps for air. "WHAT?! Lyvette, get back!" Sarila yelled to the little girl. Lyvette was frightened. She had never heard Sarila sound so scared, so tense. Lyvette did as she was told and backed away from where Marcurio had seen the bear. Marcurio charged up a sparks spell and Sarila drew her ebony dagger, its hilt gently rubbing against her calloused palm.

 _Grrrl…._

Sarila took a deep breath in, a deep breath out, and repeated, calming herself down from the impending battle that was to occur.

 _Grrrrrrrrl….._

Sarila felt her breathing get heavier and felt streams of sweat pouring down her neck and face.

The cave bear emerged from the woodlands and prowled towards Marcurio, Sarila, and Lyvette. Marcurio, whose sparks spell was charged and ready, blasted at the bear, which dodged the current of magic. Instead of making impact with the creature, the sparks hit a tree and burned a part of wood near the stump. The tree, now baseless, fell with a creaking cry. Sarila ran over to Lyvette and roughly shoved her out of the tree's way, and instead of crushing Lyvette to death, the fallen tree landed on Sarila's right leg. Sarila screamed in pain. "Aaargh! Gods!" Sarila yelled out. "Sarila!" Lyvette called out in fear, making sure her friend was okay. "Lyvette! Look at me! LOOK AT ME! I am fine! Just go, run! RUN, AND DON'T LOOK BACK!" Sarila practically screamed at the girl.

Lyvette didn't need to be told twice, and began to run. The bear, however, had decided that Lyvette was a meal waiting to be snagged. The bear lumbered towards her in slow but large strides. Lyvette heard the bear's paws making contact with the ground each time it landed, and she began to panic as the sound came closer. "Lyvette! Run!" Sarila called out. Lyvette sprinted away from the bear, who didn't give up easily.

"Sarila! Help! Help me please!" Lyvette squealed, running and jumping everywhere to evade the ferocious cave bear and his knifelike claws and gnashing teeth. "Lyvette! Hold on, I'm coming to help you!" Sarila grasped her ebony dagger so tight in her palm that part of the blade drew blood from her hand. Sarila grunted as she tried to push the fallen tree off her leg. Marcurio shot ropes of lightning at the gnarly beast to draw it away from the defenseless little girl, to no avail. Lyvette stumbled upon a small rock coming from the rough dirt and landed in a splotch of mud. "No! NO! Sarila! Help me!" Lyvette wailed, tears streaking her now filthy face as the hungry bear bounded towards her. Sarila felt she might faint from sheer terror as the cave bear was a foot away from the child. "LYVETTE! NO!"

The bear roared in pain as its eye was destroyed by an incoming arrow. While the bear was distracted, Lyvette recollected herself and got off the forest floor. She ran to Marcurio who practically broke her spine trying to grab and carry her away from the danger. "Marcurio, take her back to Riften! Go! I'll be fine!" Sarila commanded as she struggled to get the rest of her leg free from the tree. Marcurio took off with Lyvette as Sarila continued to try and free herself. She turned her attention back to the bear. Sarila squinted as she noticed three humanoid figures surrounding the bear, thrusting swords and axes into it until it went limp. One of her rescuers, an Argonian male, took his axe out of the cave bear's corpse and dashed over to Sarila.

He chopped with all his might into the tree until it was light enough to push off Sarila's now injured and bleeding leg. Sarila looked up at the Argonian's face. It was of a greenish-beige color, and had three black stripes of war paint across each cheek. His yellow eyes darted from his friends and back to Sarila. He wrapped his scaly arm around her legs and his other one around her back and hoisted her into his grasp. "Come, landstrider, we must get you to safety." His rough but calming voice soothed her. Sarila felt blood seeping out of her injured leg as she drifted out of consciousness.

"Check for the rest of them!" An elf's voice boomed. "Leave our family alone!" Sarila's mother shrieked. "Quiet, or we'll make sure there's nothing left of this farm and everyone in it!" Another elf's voice sneered angrily. Sarila's violet eyes opened, and she was back in her dream world. "Oh…oh no…they've found us!" Sarila whispered to herself. She curled into a ball and began to sob. Sarila jumped as her wooden door opened. She sighed in relief as she realized it was none other than her brother Ysgrig. "Sis! The elves got mom and dad!" Her brother wailed into her chest and he engulfed her in a hug. "We have to be quiet! We might be able to save them." Sarila explained.

"Did you think to check upstairs, you laggard?!" An elf's rough voice belittled. "Just shut up, I'll do it right now!" Sarila's heart practically stopped. She thought her heart was pounding out of her chest until she realized that the pounding was not from her heart, but from her door. Ysgrig grasped his sister's hand tightly. The old door did not come open, but came off the hinges to reveal three Thalmor soldiers. "Well, well. If it isn't the human children." A snooty soldier cackled gleefully. Two of the soldiers marched over to Sarila and Ysgrig and grabbed them by their necks, marching them downstairs. Their parents' wrists were bound behind them. Ysgrig began to cry. "Mom, dad, sis! I don't want to die!" He whined, tears pouring down his usually happy face. "There, there, Ysgrig…we'll be okay." Sarila's mother reassured, although she was unsure herself of what their fate would be.

The Thalmor soldiers roughly jerked the children to make them kneel down as they bound their wrists behind them in a painful fashion. One Thalmor in robes, who looked to be the leader, stepped forward. "Your plans to join the rebellion failed, Battori. We know who you really are. A Talos worshipper. A heathen. A deceiver." He spat, smiling at the family's frightened expressions. "And I know who you really are. A liar. A traitor. A disbeliever to the founder of the empire. A-" Sarila's father rambled.

"SILENCE!" The Thalmor agent boomed, drawing his elven sword. "You shall pay for your insolence!" He declared gleefully, approaching Sarila's father. Sarila tried to look away, but the soldier behind her was holding her head in place. With one clean chop, the Thalmor agent lopped off her father's head. Sarila, Ysgrig, and their mother screamed in terror as the Thalmor soldiers cheered and laughed as if they were at a humorous performance.

Sarila felt her face become hot with sweat and tears. She looked over to her mother, covered in her own husband's blood, still warm. "Sarilly! Griggy! Don't look!" Her mother screeched. The Thalmor agent frowned at Sarila's mother and walked over to her. He opened his palm and in an instant, a flames spell was ready. The flames licked and whipped her face as Sarila and her brother watched in horror. The Thalmor agent called one of the soldiers over and whispered something to him. The soldier nodded and walked off, and returned a moment later with a barrel of oil.

The Thalmor agent dumped the oil all over Sarila's mother and cast the flames spell once more. Only this time, her mother was not singed, but was blown to pieces. Sarila felt her mother's hot, sticky blood coat her face, clothes, hands, and neck. Her brother was also drenched in their mother's blood and gore. The Thalmor soldiers guffawed at the sight, as if it were some sort of sick, twisted game.

"Now, for the _human_ children." The Thalmor agent sneered, emphasizing the word "human" in a distasteful tone. This was too much for Ysgrig to take, and he screamed. Sarila could not cover her ears, as the soldier behind her had her hands behind her back. Ysgrig's screaming sounded similar to that of a banshee, Sarila thought. "Oh, shut up, you stupid human boy, or I'll-" the Thalmor agent started to make a threat when he began to choke on his own blood. A small but sharp arrow was lodged in his throat, and he collapsed to the floor, a small puddle of crimson liquid forming around him.

The Thalmor soldiers panicked and drew their weapons, searching for their unknown attacker. Sarila and Ysgrig watched in amazement and fear as each Thalmor soldier was picked off, one by one. A tall elf was stabbed over here, a skinny female elf was decapitated over there, and none of the soldiers could identify their assaulter. Sarila felt her bindings loosen until she could move her hands freely again, as could her brother. "Come on, we have to go, there are more coming, now let's go!" A young woman's voice whispered in Sarila's ear. Sarila felt herself being carried. She looked over her shoulder and saw her brother in the arms of a burly Nord male. Sarila looked to see who was carrying her, and recognized it as someone she knew.

"I'm Ytri, in case you were wondering." Ytri introduced herself, as if on cue. "The man carrying your brother is my future husband, Terdel." Ytri smiled when she looked at her lover. "I'm Sarila, and my brother is Ysgrig." Sarila replied with a sad smile. Ytri suddenly paused. She turned around and saw dozens of torchlights, and heard the clanking of elven armor. "Terdel! We have to run! Come on!" Ytri yelled as her face grew worried. Terdel began to run, still carrying Ysgrig, and Ytri caught up with him. Sarila bounced up and down in Ytri's arms and looked over her shoulder into the moonlight, and looked at her childhood home one last time before departing and never returning again.

Suddenly, more torchlights appeared from the nearby path. "Damn it! We're trapped!" Terdel exclaimed, panicking slightly. Ysgrig began to squirm and escaped Terdel's grasp. "Ysgrig! Come back! You'll die out there!" Sarila yelled out to her foolish brother. "There's one! Get him!" A Thalmor soldier commanded, pointing to Ysgrig. The soldiers began to pursue him. "No! Stop! Go away! Help!" Ysgrig's panicked screams and cries faded in the distance. "No! Ysgrig!" Sarila hopped out of Ytri's arms and began to run after Ysgrig. "Oh, no you don't!" A Thalmor agent declared triumphantly, wrapping his arms around Sarila. "No! Get off me you stupid elf!" Sarila insulted angrily, tears in her eyes.

"Elves are supreme, humans are the ones that are stupid, foolish girl!" He spat back. "Yeah? Well, elves are related to Falmer! The creepy underground monsters that eat people! Elves are related to them!" Sarila blew a raspberry at the furious Thalmor agent. He took out his sharpened glass dagger and angrily sliced her right cheek. Sarila felt blood pour out of the fresh cut, and could remember that this was how she got her scar. She stole a quick glance back at Ytri and Terdel. Terdel had been grabbed by a Thalmor soldier and was being strangled. Ytri quickly looked back and forth between the two trying to decide who to rescue. Sarila kneed the Thalmor agent in the groin and he collapsed in pain. Two more Thalmor soldiers grabbed both of Sarila's arms.

Sarila kicked and struggled and squirmed until she saw Ytri look over at Terdel. _I'm dead. I'm dead! This is the end for me! She's going to save him!_

Ytri closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, running over to Sarila, sword raised proudly. She brought her sword down on one of the elves' arms, slicing it clean off. The elf held his arm stump and screamed in pain, collapsing on the ground and writhing in misery. Ytri let him lay there in his own blood, slowly bleeding to death as she thrust her sword into the face of the other elf, cracking his skull and turning his brain into mush. Sarila looked at Ytri in surprise. She was sure that Ytri was going to save Terdel, her lover, instead of her, a stranger's child.

Ytri ran back over to Terdel, who was now swarmed by elves. Ytri stopped in her tracks when she saw a cloud of crimson explode into the air and onto the ground. Her green eyes widened in sadness and tears began to creep out of them and onto her cheeks. "N-no…Terdel…Terdel!" Ytri called out hoarsely. "We have to go, Miss Ytri!" Sarila encouraged, tugging on her new, older companion's arm. Ytri refused to leave until the Thalmor soldiers had cleared out.

Ytri snuck through the dark of night to her lover's unmoving body. To her surprise, Terdel began to cough. "Ytri…" He panted, licking his lips. "Take…take…take it…" He choked his words out, blood gushing from his open wounds. He slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out an amulet of Talos. On it, the word "Ytri" was inscribed. Ytri buried her face into Terdel's chest, which began to fall and rise slower and slower. Terdel lightly stroked her back. "I…love you…" he rasped in his final breath. Ytri and Sarila both watched the life fade from Terdel's dark brown eyes. "No…no! Don't leave me…no!" Ytri sobbed, tears staining her cloak. Sarila felt tears fall from her own eyes as well. She hadn't known Terdel, but he seemed like a good man, and he had died because Ytri chose to save her over him.

 _If I wasn't so foolish to jump out of Ytri's arms, I wouldn't have been captured by that agent and those soldiers, and she wouldn't have to save me, she could have just saved Terdel, and we'd all still be alive!_

Sarila repeatedly blamed herself over and over and over for Terdel's death, Ytri's depression, and her brother's disappearance. Even though Ytri told her that none of those things were Sarila's fault, which was true, Sarila felt deep down that they were, and that she could have somehow prevented them, and that innocent blood was on her hands.

"It's been a rough night. We must get some sleep, in case the Thalmor decide to come back." Ytri suggested, her face grim. Sarila shyly nodded in agreement and lay down in the soft grass. Ytri lay down next to her. Ytri faced away from Sarila and began to quietly mourn her lover's premature demise. Sarila curled up into a ball and began to cry over the loss of not one, not two, but three family members in one night.

Sarila's violet eyes snapped open and her breath grew heavy. "Reea'th, is she alright?" One of her rescuers, a Nord woman, asked, concerned for Sarila's safety. "Hmm…well, she did lose quite a bit of blood from her leg wound. It may be sprained, fractured, or even broken." The Argonian who was carrying her, named Reea'th, answered. "I'm okay, I just had a nightmare. May I please try to walk?" Sarila requested. Reea'th gently set her on her feet as the Nord woman and Bosmer man watched eagerly to see if she was alright.

Sarila took a step forward, being careful not to put too much pressure on her right leg. She took another careful step, and was able to walk with only a little pain. "Hmm…it may not be broken, but we should get Sa'etha to take a look at it." The Bosmer observed. "It hurts a little bit, but I think I'll live." Sarila smiled at her rescuers. "What happened? Are you and your friends looking for help?" The Nord woman questioned. "We were looking for my friend. I haven't seen her in a long time. She's probably dead now." Sarila sadly stated. "That's awful. Apologies." The Bosmer apologized with an empathetic frown. "What about the rest of your family? Where are they?" Reea'th inquired curiously. "They died so long ago. I'm the only one left, now." Sarila blankly answered. Her rescuers exchanged guilty looks for asking about her family. "My name is Reea'th. The woman over here is named Qattindra, and the man over there is Caehir." Reea'th introduced everyone. "My name is Sarila." Sarila smiled as she gave them her name, and they gave happy smiles back. "We're going to take you back to our family. We live in an abandoned fortress, but we have food, and we have an alchemist who can possibly fix your leg." Qattindra kindly explained. The group began to speed up their walking when it started to rain.

Sarila limped along the trail with Qattindra, Caehir, and Reea'th. "Our leader is a rather nice man, had a very traumatizing childhood, though. He lost his whole family in one night, the poor fellow. You lost your folks too, so I think you and he will be able to get along and relate just fine." Caehir informed Sarila as the small group approached the iron door to the abandoned fortress.

Sarila and her new friends entered the fortress. Rainwater dripped from the ceiling cracks, and mold grew on some of the walls. A Dunmer woman sat on a couch, reading a book. She looked up when she saw the group and waved to her friends, but gave an unusual look to Sarila, a stranger in their home. The Dunmer woman put her book down and ran over to a Redguard woman. "There's a new girl!" She quietly yelled. "Truly? A new family member?" The Redguard gasped in excitement. Sarila watched the two women chatter away as she walked with her group. Qattindra knocked on an old, unstable wooden door.

"Sir, we found a woman on the trail. She and her friends were being attacked. Is it alright if we have Sa'etha fix her up?" Qattindra called out to someone in the next room. "Hmm. Fine. But bring her in here before you do anything else, I'd like to meet this person." A voice from behind the wooden door replied sternly. "Go on in, I'm sure you two will get along just fine." Qattindra assured. Sarila was quite nervous, and slowly opened the moldy wooden door, her hands shaking in fear. Her eyes widened in complete shock. "W-what?! You're…you're alive?!"

Sarila barely felt the words leave her mouth when she looked before her. Just a foot away, her brother, Ysgrig, who she had assumed was killed by the Thalmor, was standing before her, proud, strong, and tall. His dark green eyes widened in disbelief as well. "Sarila…?" "Ysgrig…?" The two stared at each other for a full minute. Ysgrig was no longer the scrawny little boy Sarila had once known. He was now muscular, his long, red, childish hair was cut into shorter locks, and he had a light amount of stubble on his chin.

Sarila felt her violet eyes fill with tears once more. Not from sadness. Not from pain. Not from sorrow, guilt, or fear. She felt her eyes fill with tears of pure delight. Ysgrig's eyes began to tear up as well, and the two shared a long, tight embrace. "Sis…you're alive! Is this true? Is this real?" Ysgrig felt her face, ruffled her hair, he did everything he could until he finally believed that she was in fact alive.

"Ysgrig…that night when you jumped out of Terdel's arms and the Thalmor spotted you…I thought you were dead! How did you escape?" Sarila giddily laughed, still joyful from finding her long-lost brother. Ysgrig sighed and smiled. "Do you remember when we used to play Olaf One-Eye and Numinex?" Her brother asked, still grinning. Sarila nodded. "You always made me be Numinex." She chuckled at the fond memories of playing in the forest, pretending to be a dragon. "And do you remember when I did all those stunts and acrobatic tricks? Well, let's just say that when the Thalmor cornered me, I leapt right out of that situation!" Ysgrig joked. Sarila laughed at her brother's silly pun. Even if he was older, stronger, taller, and more responsible now, he still retained his sense of humor. In her heart, he was still the silly boy that Sarila used to know.

"Come on, sis. Let's go get your leg patched up." Ysgrig patted her on the back with his right hand, and wiping his tears away with his left hand. Sarila knew that, even if she didn't find Ytri this time, the trip was the still exact opposite of a failure, and that she was not the last surviving member of her family.


	21. Bonding

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry I haven't updated in a while, I got grounded, then I had to move to a new house, and I've been really busy with school. But now I'm back in action, and I PROMISE I will try as best I can to update every week or so. Promise, okay? Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye. Anyway, enjoy!**

"Hmmm…so your sister…Sarila, was it? Her leg appears to be fractured. The skin is broken, that's for certain, and her leg is a bit misshapen." The Argonian doctor, Sa'etha, informed Ysgrig. "By the Gods…will she be alright?" Ysgrig inquired, concerned for his sister's safety. "She'll be fine, do not worry," she reassured, and Ysgrig sighed with relief. "I will give her a potion to help ease the pain, and I'll patch the skin up as best I can. Other than that, we'll have to keep an eye on her leg and see how it repairs." Sa'etha explained, walking over to her shelf and sorting through potions. "Hmm…magicka, stamina, shock resist-ah! Here we are, healing!" She exclaimed, holding up a large, reddish bottle with a golden rim and a beige label.

Sa'etha approached Sarila, who sat patiently on a wooden chair. "Here, drink this slowly. It should help to stop the pain." Sa'etha handed Sarila the concoction and walked over to an oaken bookcase and began to search for a healing tome. Sarila obeyed, and slowly drank the healing potion, its thick and bitter mixture sliding down her throat. Sa'etha returned a moment later with a dirty, goldenrod spell tome with the restoration symbol on its leather cover, clean linen wraps, and several small pins. "Alright, this will only take a moment, but you must remain perfectly still. I shall wrap the linen tightly over your leg wound, and I shall pin it to stay there while I cast a healing spell upon you." Sa'etha calmly explained. "Don't worry, sis. Sa'etha knows very well what she's doing. She's studied under a very talented Imperial healer, Metian Septianos." Ysgrig reassured his sister.

Sarila smiled at Ysgrig, which was returned. She was overjoyed at the rediscovery of her long-lost brother. Sarila slightly winced in pain when Sa'etha began to wrap the linen tightly over her injury. Sa'etha skillfully and carefully placed a pin through the fabric to pin it together, being especially wary to not stab Sarila with the pin. When her work was finished, she opened to a page in her restoration tome. She closed her eyes tightly and quietly uttered some rushed words. In less than a second, a beacon of golden light was shining in her claws. Sa'etha inhaled deeply and pointed a scaly finger at Sarila's leg, commanding the golden rays to dance freely into the wound. Sarila gasped when she felt her skin coming together again, feeling the constant warm wetness of blood slow its flowing, and eventually stop altogether. She could see the warm smiles in Sa'etha's eyes, clearly pleased with the result.

Sa'etha carefully removed the pins in the linen one by one, and she easily removed the wrap. Sarila's leg was as good as new. "Before you get up, you might want to have something to put weight on." Sa'etha suggested, her yellow eyes darting around the room. They came to rest on a large staff. "Ah, the staff of flames. I do not use this staff, perhaps you would like it to help you walk?" Sa'etha asked, picking up the magnificently crafted wooden staff. She suddenly looked confused, and examined the staff again. "It appears to still have magic. You may use it for not only walking, but in combat as well. Very useful!" Sa'etha nodded with a smile, handing Sarila the staff. "By the Gods, thank you, thank you, and thank you once more! I cannot thank you enough for this, Sa'etha." Sarila cordially shook the Argonian's scaled hand. "It is no trouble. Any sister of Ysgrig is a sister of mine." Sa'etha replied. "Come on, sis. I'm sure the others would like to meet you." Ysgrig told his sister, waving goodbye to Sa'etha as the two exited the room.

"Mattha, come here please!" Ysgrig called as he entered the main hall, startling the Dunmer woman who was currently reading on the couch. She leapt up off the old couch and placed her book on the nearby end table. "Oh, I'm sorry, sir! I just got so caught up in "The Cake and the Diamond" that I completely forgot to sort the harvest." She profusely apologized. Ysgrig laughed heartily. "Mattha, dear, that was Caehir's job, and it's been done. You are not in any trouble, it's just there's someone I'd like you to meet." Ysgrig replied, grinning. He gestured to Sarila. "Oh yes, I saw her enter the Home with Caehir, Qattindra, and Reea'th earlier." She recognized. "This is my sister, Sarila." Ysgrig happily introduced. The Dunmer, Mattha, smiled, but her eyes widened immediately. "Sister?! Your sister is alive?! That's great news, Ysgrig!" Mattha cheered. "My, my! It certainly is an honor to meet you, Miss Sarila! I am Mattha Mavothan, but please, call me Mattha." She politely curtsied. "Ysgrig has told us all so much about you when you were kids. He always thought the world of you." Mattha warmly smiled.

"I certainly have. The moment I realized who the woman that entered my office was, I figured I'd had too much wine." Ysgrig joked, ruffling Sarila's golden hair. Ysgrig turned to face Mattha again. "Have you seen Chalvia and Omir?" He asked the Dunmer. Mattha ran a hand through her long, black hair. "Last I checked, Chalvia headed off to the kitchen to prepare tonight's meal. As for Omir, he's most likely to be smithing some sort of new weapon, as always." The young Dunmer rolled her eyes. "Thank you, Mattha." Ysgrig gave a curt nod. He began to walk to the kitchen but stopped in his tracks. "Ah…before I forget, did you remember to replace the books back in the order they were before you read them?" Ysgrig asked. "Oh…about that…" Mattha sheepishly trailed off, looking at the ground. She looked up and smiled naughtily. "I'm only fooling, of course I have. They should be nice and orderly." She reassured. Ysgrig and Sarila chuckled and headed over to the kitchen, which was in the next hall.

The two siblings were greeted by loud clanking of metal, and a very frantic Chalvia, who was swiftly multitasking. One moment she was stoking flames of the fire, and the next, she was tossing ingredients into an enormous soup pot. Without even looking up, she had acknowledged Ysgrig and Sarila's presence. "Ysgrig, could you please bring me my carrots? They're up in the middle shelf." The Redguard woman requested, grabbing a knife and chopping onions quickly but cautiously. Ysgrig rushed over to the shelf that had several small sacks. He ruffled through a medium-sized sack on the middle shelf and pulled out five carrots. "Would five carrots be a sufficient amount for…whatever it is you're preparing?" Ysgrig asked, needing confirmation. "Yes, yes, that's fine! Thank you, Ysgrig." Chalvia replied, pouring half a cup of diced onions into her soup pot of many ingredients. Ysgrig nodded and hurried over, placing the carrots before the busy Redguard chef. Chalvia took a glance at her book, "Uncommon Taste," and began to slice and dice the carrots. She swiftly slid her silver knife across the table, sweeping the bits of carrots into the soup pot.

Chalvia grabbed a gleaming, brownish-golden jar filled with an unknown liquid. Sarila read the label and recognized it to be Sujamma, an alcoholic beverage from Morrowind. Chalvia uncorked the jar and poured in the entire amount of contents. She quickly added Glow dust to neutralize the effects of Sujamma, and rushed to her ingredient barrel. Chalvia returned a moment later and dumped in a cup of Fire salts, and a cup of Frost salts. She took the pot and placed it over the fire. Sarila watched in awe as the Redguard stirred in an incredible speed. The soup pot emitted steam, indicating a flaming hot temperature, and Chalvia removed the pot. She took her wooden ladle and poured soup into the wooden bowls she had placed. Once all the bowls had been filled and the soup pot was empty, she placed the ladle on the table and sighed, wiping sweat from her forehead. "All finished!" She proudly declared. "Ysgrig, please take your friend to the feast table for our meal, and we shall all get to know her there. I will only take a moment, don't worry." Chalvia instructed, grabbing a white rag and dipping it into water. She began to clean the pots, pans, and anything she had gotten dirty as Ysgrig and Sarila retreated to the dinner table.

Ysgrig took the chair at the end of the long, wooden table. "Come sit by me, Sarila." Ysgrig smiled warmly and patted the chair closest to his. Sarila gladly accepted his invitation and pulled her chair out to sit down. Caehir sat in the chair next to her. "Glad to see your leg is better. I told you we could help you out." Caehir gladly stated. "And for this I thank you." Sarila gratefully thanked, earning a smile and nod from the Bosmer. Qattindra sat across from Caehir and gave Sarila a polite nod of acknowledgement before turning to Reea'th, who sat next to her. Mattha arrived and sat across from Reea'th and next to Caehir, holding a book titled "Chance's Folly." Mattha opened her book and her red eyes began to follow along with the words on each page, unaware that Caehir was peering over her shoulder, also sneaking a peek at the book. The last to arrive was Omir. He wore a blacksmith's apron with a hammer tucked carefully into his tool belt. He wore gloves with soot and coal stained permanently into them. Sarila was especially surprised to find that he was a Khajiit, as most blacksmiths were Orcs. Omir and Mattha immediately made eye contact and glared at each other before Omir sat next to Reea'th.

Reea'th looked up in confusion. "Where is my sister?" He asked, his eyes shooting from place to place. "Sa'etha turned in early. She was up all night last night making potions." Mattha informed Reea'th, who nodded understandingly. Everyone turned their head when they heard the creaking cry of the wooden door. Chalvia walked inside pushing a small wagon. "Sorry I'm later than expected, it took a while to clean up the kitchen." Chalvia sheepishly apologized, but soon smiled as she placed a bowl of soup in front of each person. Sarila's mouth watered when the warm, inviting steam of the soup lovingly clouded her face, the meal's scent awakening her. She took her wooden spoon and dipped it into the soup, bringing it to her mouth and quietly slurping it up. Her violet eyes widened. "G-Gods above! This is the most delicious thing I've ever tasted! What is this?!" She gasped in awe. Everyone else, surprised by Sarila's reaction, took their soup spoons and tasted their soup as well, all having nearly the exact same reaction as the Nord woman. "This is incredible!" Caehir complimented. "It's a gift fit for the Divines themselves!" Mattha added. "By the Hist, this is truly remarkable!" Reea'th praised.

Chalvia smiled as her friends showered her with undying praise. "My friends…it is the Potage le Magnifique. I have followed the ever-popular recipe created by the Gourmet, and I added several ingredients to make my own version." Chalvia explained, watching as everyone savored their soup. "I added Sujamma, Glow dust, Fire Salts, and Frost salts. I added Glow dust to neutralize the effects of the Sujamma, I added the Sujamma to give a bit of sweetness, and the Fire and Frost salts to give it a little extra kick." She continued. "This is one of the most incredible meals you've ever served, Chalvia. You've really outdone yourself this time!" Ysgrig exclaimed. Chalvia slightly blushed at the praise she received. "Thank you, everyone. I greatly appreciate your support." She genuinely thanked.

Moments later, Chalvia sat down at the table across from Sarila and began to enjoy her own dish. "You know Chalvia, this really reminds me of the time we first met all those years ago." Ysgrig commented, smiling at his best friend. "So…how did you meet Chalvia?" Sarila inquired, tilting her head curiously. Ysgrig swallowed the spoonful of soup he had just slurped up and smiled fondly. "Well, it's a bit of a long story, but I'll gladly tell you." He began.

" _Find that little brat!" A Thalmor agent furiously roared off in the distance. Ysgrig breathed heavily and frantically searched for a hiding place in the woods as the torchlights grew brighter and brighter, indicating the approach of the Thalmor. Ysgrig realized that he was next to an enormous tree. He stepped back, ran forward and did a flip in the air, latching onto a sturdy branch. He pulled himself up and began to climb up to higher branches until he perched himself on the largest one he could find, the leaves brushing his skin. He was about to call out for Sarila when he heard a female's scream. "S-sis?" He meekly whispered, tears forming once more. "Sis!" He called desperately. "Sis! Sarila! SARILA!" He wailed, tears flooding his eyes and dripping down his face. He suddenly heard footsteps and the lights grew brighter._

 _Ysgrig remained as silent as he could possibly be when the Thalmor passed through the woodlands he was in. He hid amongst the leaves to ensure that he would not be found. Only when the footsteps were no longer heard and the lights no longer shined did he move from his tree. He hopped from treetop to treetop until he found where he had last seen Sarila and their rescuers. He did not find his sister, but a splotch of blood near a severed arm and a dead Thalmor who was missing his right arm. There was another elf with an enormous hole in his head, his blood and brains on the ground. Ysgrig shuddered in disgust and fear and ran to look for his sister again. He saw a large cloud of blood on the ground in the distance and rushed over. There on the ground in a puddle of his own blood was the man who had risked his life to save Ysgrig; Terdel. Ysgrig was overcome with fear as he approached Terdel's unmoving body. He looked into his dark brown eyes, still open, but lifeless. "C-can you get up?" Ysgrig nervously requested with sadness. He was answered with silence and the blowing of a cold gust of wind. Ysgrig hung his head in sadness and continued through the wilderness, all alone._

 _Eleven days later, Ysgrig was searching for food. The sun was setting when he came across a rabbit and killed it with his beloved toy sword. He sighed at the memory of being given the sword for New Life. Ysgrig carefully skinned the rabbit and bit into the raw meat. He wistfully yearned to be back in his childhood home, to be served cooked meat and his mother's special Juniper and Jazbay glazed boiled Creme Treats. He finished his very small meal and walked across a hill when he noticed a small wooden shack up ahead. Curiously, he slowly approached it. "Hello? Anyone home?" He called out, drawing his sword. Ysgrig turned around when he heard quiet footsteps. "Hello, can you-" He yelled out in surprise when a wolf tackled him down the hill. The two rolled down the hill and the wolf landed on top of Ysgrig. Ysgrig grasped his sword and deflected the wolf's attempts to bite him by smacking his teeth with the hilt of his sword in a panic._

 _Suddenly, Ysgrig heard a loud, feminine battle cry. When he looked towards the hill, he saw a Redguard girl in a black leather robe dashing towards him. She jumped into the air and tackled the wolf. She began to thrust her sword into the struggling wolf's abdomen. Ysgrig regained his footing and joined her in killing the snarling beast until his growls ceased. The girl got off the wolf. "You okay?" She asked Ysgrig. "I think so. Are you?" He replied. "Yeah. That wolf was pretty tough, though." She mused. "I'm Chalvia." She introduced herself, putting her hand out for a handshake. "My name's Ysgrig." Ysgrig took her hand and shook it. "Where's your family, Chalvia?" Ysgrig inquired curiously. "Oh, they died last year. I'm not too bothered by it, they weren't very nice. How about you?" "Mine died eleven days ago, I think." Ysgrig sadly answered, hanging his head. "Aww, I'm sorry to hear that, Ysgrig. If you want, you can come stay with me in my shack." Chalvia kindly offered. "That's very nice of you, Chalvia. Thank you." Ysgrig smiled for the first time in over a week._

 _Chalvia led Ysgrig back to her shack, which was the shack he had approached moments before the wolf attacked him. It was fairly nice for a shack, having a working door and a window covered by glass. There were two small beds inside, along with a barrel, a cooking pot, a shelf, and a small table with a lantern in the middle and a chair on each side. "Would you like something to eat?" Chalvia asked, walking over to the barrel. "If you don't mind, I am a bit hungry." Chalvia nodded at his response and opened the barrel. She removed an apple, a cabbage, and a bowl of salt. Ysgrig observed Chalvia as she started a fire beneath the cooking pot, boiled a base broth, and tossed all three ingredients into the pot. She slowly stirred as the gentle flame tenderly boiled the meal, and took two bowls off the shelf. She used a wooden ladle to pour the contents of the cooking pot into each bowl. She placed a bowl in front of Ysgrig, who had sat in a wooden chair at the table, and she placed a bowl in front of the seat she had chosen, which was across from Ysgrig. Ysgrig looked at the contents in his bowl. "What is it?" He asked, picking up his spoon. He dipped his spoon into the stew and brought it to his lips. His tongue was immediately stimulated by the delicious food. "No, wait! I know exactly what it is! It's delicious!" He praised in surprise as he lapped up the stew._

 _Chalvia laughed as her new friend devoured his meal. "It's Apple Cabbage Stew. It's nice to see someone enjoys my cooking. Ever since I found this shack, I've been practicing my cooking skills. I want to be a cook one day." She replied, smiling. "You'd be a really good cook. I want to be a soldier when I grow up." Ysgrig informed her. "I think you'd be a nice soldier. You'll probably be really strong when you grow up." Chalvia replied, polishing off her soup. She took the bowls and wiped them clean, placing them neatly back on the shelf. "I'm going to sleep. You can have the bed on that side if you want it." Chalvia offered, getting up and lying on her small bed. "Thank you, Chalvia. You're a really nice friend." Ysgrig smiled happily. "I like you, Ysgrig. You seem like a really interesting person to be friends with." Chalvia yawned, closing her eyes. "Goodnight, Chalvia." Ysgrig whispered, lying on his bed. "Goodnight, Ysgrig." Ysgrig smiled when he heard his new friend's voice, for he knew now that he would survive. If this wonderful girl had survived for this long on her own, he would too. And hopefully now, he'd have a lifelong friend._


	22. Contemplations

**A/N: Mwahahaha, I'm back! I'll betcha didn't expect me to post again. I mean, gee whizzles, it's only been, oh, I dunno, let me check…TWO AND A HALF MONTHS?! Arrrrgh! I'm so sorry! I've just been super busy lately, y'know, with school, studying, and all that sweet jazz…but now I'm back with another chapter of the story! Sorry about the whole "I'll update every week durhhh hurrh hurrh" shebang and not doing it…I've been working on this chapter like, literally whenever I have a free moment (on the bus, when I can't sleep, when I'm eating and have a free hand) on my iPhone in the Notes app. I had to send the story from Notes to myself in an email, I had to copy and paste, indent, italicize, etc., etc., you don't have to read this. Still keeping to my word though and not abandoning this story. If you feel like it, please comment so I know what I'm doing right and what I need to fix. I want to become a writer someday, and this story is perfect practice. Plus, I have high hopes that this story will be pretty well-liked. But enough of this shenanigans…you probably wanna read the story, huh? Not interested in my hullabaloo xD Well, I'll skedaddle. CUE THE STORY!**

Sarila limped across the dank, lightless cavern. She had no idea how she had gotten there, and her violet eyes darted around, observing every little detail. She noticed thick clusters of dark green vines, some small cracks in the cavern walls that, if she looked close enough, appeared to form a tiny wolf, and she observed several small emeralds shining on the ground in a circle before her.

The shimmering jewels split in half, creating more of them. They rose up into the air and fitted together to form a small dress made of the beautiful emeralds. Sarila found herself curiously observing this unnatural phenomenon when a faded figure filled the glittering gown. A face appeared on the figure, and its blue eyes opened. Long lashes began to poke out of the eyelid, and a small nose popped out in between its eyes. Light pink lips puckered on the face, and lastly, long, raven hair grew from the figure's head. Sarila had immediately recognized the figure as Lyvette. Lyvette stepped closer to Sarila, who was carefully watching the younger girl's every move. "Safe." Lyvette quietly whispered to Sarila with a smile on her lips. 

Sarila's eyes popped open. She blinked until she realized she was dreaming. But what, she thought, did it mean? Did it perhaps mean Lyvette and Marcurio had gotten safely back to Riften? 

Sarila rubbed her eyes and slowly sat up, slightly grunting in pain as her leg was still a bit sensitive to movement. Sarila began to fully awaken when she heard two knocks on her door. "Come in." Sarila called out to whoever was knocking. 

The door slowly opened and Ysgrig soon stood before her as she sat upon her makeshift, yet comfortable cot. "How are you feeling?" Ysgrig asked with a smile, ruffling his sister's golden locks. 

"Much better, all thanks to everyone's generous hospitality." Sarila grinned, grabbing Ysgrig's arm before he knotted her hair into a basket with his curious hand. "I just had a couple questions, sorry if I woke you." Ysgrig sheepishly scratched the back of his neck. 

"No, you didn't. It's fine." Sarila smiled in reassurance to her brother. "Qattindra said there were people with you. She heard you calling a 'Lyvette.' Who were you with?" Ysgrig gently inquired. "Well, it's a long story, but I'll gladly chop it up into the important bits." Sarila began, licking her dry lips. "As I told you before, Ytri and I were separated in the woods. I don't know if she's alive, or if she's dead, or possibly worse. All I know is that she's lost." Sarila stopped, watching her brother's expression of pity. 

"While I was in the wilderness, I heard desperate cries for help. I ran to the source, and lo and behold, there was a little girl being attacked by wolves. She had no weapons, and her foot was caught in a tree root. I killed the wolves, and we started traveling together. I've taken quite a shine to her, and she seems to enjoy my company as well." Sarila explained, and Ysgrig smiled. 

"I knew you still had that overly-compassionate heart somewhere in there." Ysgrig laughed, poking her in the ribs as Sarila failed to hide a smirk. "Her name is Lyvette. She and I stay together in Riften's tavern, along with our other friends, Kharjo and Marcurio." Sarila explained. "I was with Marcurio on my way to Whiterun when I discovered Lyvette had followed us into the woods against my wishes. Marcurio exclaimed that he'd spotted a bear, and it lumbered towards us. He tried to cast a spell upon the beast, but it hit the tree instead and caused it to fall. It would have killed Lyvette, but I shoved her away, and that's how I got my leg injury." Sarila concluded, pointing to her slowly healing leg. 

Ysgrig scratched his chin. "What were you going to Whiterun for?" He asked. "I'm...um..." Sarila lost her words in her throat, and Ysgrig raised an eyebrow. "I joined the Thieves' Guild, and I had to complete a job for them." Sarila winced as soon as the words left her mouth. She was sure Ysgrig would disapprove. 

To her surprise, however, Ysgrig merely laughed and clapped her on the back. "Sarila, Sarila! Why didn't you mention this before? I would have gladly helped you!" Ysgrig told her, slowly leaning closer to her ear. "And besides," he whispered, "I've eavesdropped on ma and pa, and I heard that pa had a friend in the guild." He mischievously grinned, and Sarila gasped in mock surprise. "I should have known you had a trick up your sleeve, rascal!" Sarila giggled as she grabbed her brother by his shoulders, shaking him wildly.

"I would still gladly help you, sis. I've gained a great deal of knowledge in combat, and I'm much more able-bodied than ten years ago." Ysgrig offered with a small smile. Sarila paused and considered his kind offer. "That…that actually sounds like it would be of great help. Thank you, Ysgrig." Sarila gently patted her twin's back. "I think I ought to head back to Riften…my friends are probably worrying themselves silly over my disappearance." Sarila mumbled before pausing to think again. "Although…I think Lyvette knows what I'm capable of doing, and Kharjo has seen me in action as well…hopefully they won't worry too much." Sarila slowly stood up and stretched her legs, being careful not to stretch her injured leg too much.

Ysgrig thought briefly for a moment. "You said your task is in Whiterun?" Sarila nodded. Ysgrig scratched the light stubble on his chin. "I haven't been to that area in ages…but father once took me there when he needed to buy a new blade. I could assist you in navigation if you need it." Ysgrig shrugged. "Divines above, Ysgrig. That would be great." Sarila hugged her brother, who smiled and patted her back. "I'll head to Sa'etha's room and ask if your leg is well enough to venture out." Ysgrig sauntered out of the room. Sarila soon realized something. "Ysgrig, wait!" Ysgrig reentered his sister's room. "Could we…could we search for Ytri, while we're out and about?" Sarila requested, hoping for a satisfying answer. Ysgrig nodded. "That woman and her betrothed saved both of our lives. It's only fair that we do the same for her." Sarila sighed in relief and grinned, lying back down on her cot.

"Gooooood morning, Sarila! Time to get up and go forth!" Ysgrig chimed cheerily. Sarila opened her eyes and rubbed them. "Oh, good morning, Ysgrig. Did Sa'etha give her blessing to go out?" Sarila was immediately answered by a smile and nod. Sarila quickly got off her cot, careful not to strain her leg. Her eyes darted around the room until she found her clothes sitting in a neat pile on the nearby wooden chair. She reached for her clothes, and turned to Ysgrig. "Errr…could you please wait outside?" Sarila asked. Ysgrig seemed confused at first, but he soon realized that his sister needed to get dressed. "Oh! Right, sure thing, sis! I'll be ready when you are." He walked out of the room and gently closed the door behind him.

Minutes later, Sarila was dressed, and she felt as if her leg was much better than the previous day. She decided to not be overly active, as it might cause her leg stress. She gently caressed the hilt of her ebony dagger in its sheath, and she headed to the central hall where Ysgrig patiently awaited her. "Hey, sis. Ready to get going?" Sarila nodded. "Alright, let's head out and-" "WAIT!" The twins stopped in their tracks to see Chalvia dashing towards them. The Redguard woman bent over and panted to catch her breath. "Chalvia? Are you alright?" Ysgrig asked out of the concern for his friend's well-being. "Y…yes…fine…I'm fine." Chalvia stood up straight. "Here. I want you to have these." Chalvia reached into her satchel and pulled out two small, pink bottles, one of which had a small rope across it.

"These are healing potions, so in case, Gods forbid, one of you gets hurt, I wanted you to take them." Chalvia explained, handing the bright pink bottles to the siblings. "Ah, thank you, Chalvia. I assume you got these from Sa'etha?" "Uh, well, no…not exactly. I-I made them myself. Sa'etha just taught me how." Chalvia scratched the back of her neck. "Well, thank you, Chalvia! It was nice of you to go to the trouble of making these for us." Ysgrig thanked, pulling his friend in for a hug. Chalvia uncomfortably shifted, but wrapped her arms around Ysgrig's shoulders as well. "It wasn't any trouble…just…just be careful, okay? I don't want either of you getting hurt." Ysgrig pulled out of the hug and nodded. "Thank you, Chalvia! We'll see you when we get back." Sarila smiled at the woman as she and her brother walked out the door.

"Do you want this potion, sis?" Ysgrig asked as soon as they stepped out. "I don't usually receive injuries, and when I do, they are very unnoticeable." He offered his bottle to her. Sarila shook her head. "No. I don't want to lose anyone else. If there were an accident, and you were hurt, I'd rather you have it." Sarila rejected.

"Oh, alright." Ysgrig put the bottle in his backpack, but as he did, Sarila noticed, in the rope tied around the bottle was a small, red mountain flower. Sarila slowly broke out into a sly grin. It was all adding up now, she thought. She thought back to when Chalvia blushed at Ysgrig's compliment on her Potage le Magnifique…when Chalvia so urgently rushed to hand the potions to them…that fact that Chalvia made them _herself..._ and Sarila smiled when she replayed Chalvia's body language when Ysgrig had hugged her. And now, she thought, Chalvia had subtly given him a flower with his potion. It was clear to Sarila now, that Chalvia was smitten with her brother.

"...get there." Sarila's thoughts were interrupted when she realized her brother was speaking to her. "Could you repeat that? I was in deep thought." "I think we should rent a room at the Bannered Mare when we get there." Ysgrig repeated. "Alright. That sounds like a plan." Sarila agreed, looking at her surroundings. "What were you thinking about?" Ysgrig inquired, tilting his head curiously. This had caught Sarila off guard. "Oh, um, just thinking about how beautiful Skyrim is, that's all." She answered modestly, but Ysgrig didn't seem convinced. Lucky for Sarila, Ysgrig just brushed it off and didn't pry.

"When you and Ytri got separated, where were you?" Ysgrig questioned, scanning the tree lines carefully for any predators. Sarila thought for a moment. "Well, I believe we were in between Shor's Stone and Ivarstead. No, wait, we were near Lake Honrich. Oh, no, wait, we were…oh, dear. I can't remember." Sarila sighed, her shoulders slumping. Ysgrig frowned and patted his sister's back. "Don't worry. We'll find her, one way or another." He appeased.

Sarila wiped at the tears threatening to fall from her violet eyes. "I just miss her. She reminded me of mom, but she was…well, sometimes grumpy." Sarila sadly chuckled. "I remember whenever Ytri took me fishing, she would sometimes have to swim out to get the fish. I was too lightweight to resist the currents, though. 'Just keep on swimming. Just keep on swimming.' She'd always tell me." Sarila's lips tugged upward into a smile at the remembrance of her friend. "I didn't know her for as long as you have, but you speak very fondly of her, sis. I'm sure I would have liked her as much as you." Ysgrig gently added.

The twins diligently searched the forest all the way to Whiterun. As they crossed a path, Ysgrig's eyes shot open. He roughly grabbed his sister by the front of her shirt and shoved her into a bush, quickly diving in behind her. Sarila moved her lips to form words, but Ysgrig quickly silenced her with a finger to her mouth. "Don't move. Don't speak." He mouthed. "What?" "Imperial soldiers." Ysgrig quietly moved the leaves of the bush until the two could see outside. Sarila's jaw dropped in shock. Streams of carts led by Imperial Soldiers glided down the path, the horses whinnying indifferently.

In one cart sat a man with long, dirty blonde hair and a purplish-blue cloak. He also had a gag around his mouth. Before him sat a brown-haired man in rags. From his facial expressions, Sarila deduced that he did not know anyone else in the cart. Next to the nervous man in rags was a blonde man in bluish armor, which Sarila immediately recognized as a Stormcloak cuirass. The final prisoner, to Sarila's surprise, was not a brutish-looking man like the others. It was only a girl.

The mysterious girl looked to be about sixteen, only a year younger than Sarila. Her hair was in long, orange braids, and her skin was pale, but not deathly pale. Her lips were light pink and slightly plump, and her jawline was quite round, but not chubby. She was out cold in the cart. Sarila frowned. The poor girl must have been frightened to death when the Imperials captured her. She, however, did not wear Stormcloak armor, and wore rags like the other man. Sarila's blood went ice cold. _Lyvette had a dream about Imperials executing people in Helgen. She mentioned two of the prisoners were innocent…one was a man, and one was a woman._ Sarila began to sweat profusely at how incredibly disturbing this was. Perhaps, she thought, the dream was merely a coincidence. _Yes, a coincidence. But what if it…WASN'T…a coincidence? If only I could remember what happened next in Lyvette's dream…_

"Sarila. They're gone." Ysgrig's voice shook her from her thoughts. "Then let's get out of here before anymore show up." Sarila grabbed her brother by the hand and stood up, pulling him out of the bush with her. The two quickly checked for more Imperials, and when they decided there were none, they ran all the way to Whiterun, not stopping along the way.


	23. The Beginning Of The End

"Need a drink?" Sarila was pulled out of her thoughts once again when she looked up at the middle-aged bartender, Hulda. "Oh, no thanks." Hulda nodded and wiped down the counter of her bar. Sarila got off the barstool and headed back up to the room she and her brother rented. Ysgrig sat upon the king-sized bed and sharpened his glass sword. Sarila gazed at the magnificently crafted blade. "Where did you find such an incredible sword, Ysgrig?" Sarila asked, prompting her twin to look up from his activity. "Oh, Omir forged it for me two years ago, said he wanted me to have it in case I ran into trouble when I took walks through the woods. This blade has kept me safer than any mercenary possibly could." Ysgrig smiled, proudly brandishing his gorgeous sword.

Their conversation was cut short when Sarila heard a tremendous bellow overcome the inn. From Sarila's judgment, the sound was coming from above the city. "Did you just-" "I heard it." Ysgrig replied before Sarila had even gotten the words out of her mouth. The siblings sat in silence, and the sound of confused chatter prevailed through the inn. "It was probably just a tremor." Ysgrig suggested. "I don't think we should take too long on the job. It might be dangerous to stay out long, especially if that was a tremor like you say." Sarila noted, sitting in a wooden chair.

"Where is the contact you were ordered to meet with?" Ysgrig asked, rising up from his spot on the bed. "I was specifically instructed to meet a man named Mallus Maccius, and he should be right in this very inn." Sarila replied. "Then let's get going. There's no time like the present." Ysgrig opened the door and walked out of the room, Sarila pursuing him.

Sarila approached the man drinking wine by the secluded fire pit, Ysgrig cautiously following behind. The man looked up at her with sunken eyes and heavily sighed. "Can't a man drink in peace?" He grumbled. "Your name wouldn't happen to be Mallus Maccius, would it?" Sarila inquired, scratching her temple. The man's eyes widened. "I assume Maven sent you. I've been expecting you." He whispered to Sarila and Ysgrig. "Indeed. I'm Sarila, and this is my brother, Ysgrig." Sarila introduced, and Ysgrig gave a small wave. "Now, I'm going to keep this short 'cause we've got a lot to do." Mallus licked his dry lips, and Sarila nodded, listening carefully.

"Honningbrew's owner, Sabjorn, is about to hold a tasting for Whiterun's Captain of the Guard and we're going to poison the mead." Mallus grinned evilly. Sarila suddenly felt nervousness wash over her, and sweat began to profusely bead in little droplets on her forehead. "We're…we're not going to kill him, are we?" She gulped. Mallus shook his head. "No. Absolutely no killing." Sarila sighed in relief. "Do you have this poison?" She asked, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Mallus laughed heartily. "No, no. That's the beauty of the whole plan. We're going to get Sabjorn to give it to us." His grin grew even wider.

"The Meadery has quite a pest problem and the whole city knows about it. Pest poison and mead don't mix well, you know what I mean?" Sarila and Ysgrig nodded in understanding. "So…how do we fit in?" Ysgrig questioned. "You're both going to happen by and lend poor old Sabjorn a helping hand. He's going to give you the poison to use on the pests, but you're also going to dump it in the brewing vat." Mallus took a swig of his wine. "You know, that might actually work." Sarila praised, surprised at the man's cleverness.

"Maven and I spent weeks planning this. All we need is someone like you to get in there and get it done." Mallus wiped his wine-covered mouth with his sleeve, staining the rough fabric a light purple. "However, I think it would be best if Sarila was the one to offer her assistance. She looks more innocent, more trustworthy. No offense, of course." Mallus turned to Ysgrig and offered an apologetic look. "No, I completely understand. My sister is swift as a bird and smart as a fox. Her looks often deceive people." Ysgrig clapped his sister on the back, and she smiled at him in appreciation for the praise. "Alright, good. Now get going before Sabjorn grows a brain and hires someone else to do the dirty work." Mallus turned back to his bottle of wine and continued taking large swigs of the drink. "The Meadery is right outside of town. You can't miss it." He called as Sarila and Ysgrig headed out the door.

Sarila shielded her eyes from the abnormally bright sun. "Whoa!" Ysgrig shouted as he pointed to the sky. An earth-shaking roar echoed through the air, and it was undoubtable that every Province could have heard the calamitous cacophony. Sarila's eyes followed to where her brother's finger pointed. She gasped in utter shock as she viewed the strangest, most unusual phenomenon she had ever lived to witness up close. "Is that a bird?" Ysgrig asked, still gazing at the flying creature. Sarila's lips quivered in paralytic fear; the memories of Lyvette describing her dream drifted back into her mind as the deafening sound burned itself into the sanctums of her mind. "Sarila?"

… _A big, black dragon landed on the tower…it shouted words...scary words…it destroyed the town and burned people alive!_

Lyvette's hysterical voice replayed over and over in Sarila's head. Her heart pounded out of her chest, and the blood coursing through her veins ran cold as the snow of Dawnstar's mountains. "No, Ysgrig. It was not a bird." Sarila blankly stated, her violet eyes dull and glassy. "It was not a bird. It was a dragon, here to burn our flesh, snap our bones, slaughter our people, and end our days. It is here to end the world and pry all that we love from our very hands."


	24. Mission

**A/N: Hey hey hey, back again with ANOTHER chapter of the story. Lordy, that's three chapters in one week after a serious case of the writer's block. I've been working more diligently this week. Comments are always appreciated, so let me know what you think. I may or may not write another one today before bed, so keep those peepers peeled for some more action! Story, INITIATE!**

"That dream was no coincidence, Ysgrig. What happened today is exactly what Lyvette described in her nightmare." Sarila's expression was serious, yet still ever kind and gentle as she and Ysgrig walked out of the city's gates. "First, the Imperials rode by with those carts full of Stormcloak prisoners. Lyvette told me that two of them weren't Stormcloaks, one of them was a man, and the other was a woman. Two of the prisoners didn't wear Stormcloak garments, they wore rags." Sarila backed up her reasoning. "And now I remember clearly, Lyvette told me that right as the woman was to be executed, a dragon landed on the tower behind the chopping block, and he caused havoc to run rampant through Helgen. Now, the dragon has left Helgen, and could possibly be off burning another town, or…Gods forbid, even a city, to the ground." Sarila shuddered at the thoughts.

"I don't feel well about this, Ysgrig. Not. One. Bit. What if that dragon flies over to Whiterun and starts unleashing its fire? Talos above, what if he destroys Riften? All of my friends are in Riften…if he causes their demises, I don't know what I would do." Ysgrig sensed the fear in his sister and frowned. "Come here. It's okay." He opened his arms and beckoned Sarila to him. Sarila approached him and was quickly swallowed up into one of his bone-crushing hugs. "It's alright, sis. We won't let the dragon cause any more destruction. If it shows up around here again, we'll kill it. Simple as that." Ysgrig stroked his sister's golden hair.

Sarila sniffled. "What if…they can't die? What if they're immortal?" A single tear fell from Sarila's beautiful eyes. "The Gods would surely be merciful. Come now, please don't cry. You know how much I hate seeing you cry." Ysgrig gave Sarila a sad smile as he gently placed his hands on her shoulders. Sarila sniffled once more and wiped her eyes, her mouth slowly breaking into a smile. "I remember that time you accidentally whacked me in the face with the hilt of your wooden sword. Mother chastised you so much, but you didn't care. You just kept on apologizing. 'Sarila, please don't cry! I'm sorry, don't cry! Please stop crying, I feel bad!'" Sarila giggled, her eyes drier than before. Ysgrig chuckled. "I still hate seeing tears fall from my dear sister's eyes."

Sarila grinned before returning to her thoughts. "That dream was still no coincidence. The Gods have seen something special in Lyvette, and have gifted her with something that little or no others have been blessed with." She resumed her original statement. Ysgrig's eyes widened. "Do you really think so?" Sarila nodded. "How else could she describe her dream in such vivid detail, only to have it take place in the real world just a few days after?"

Ysgrig squinted as he looked at the building they were approaching. "Sarila, this is the place. The Honningbrew Meadery." He told his sister. "Great, let's go carry out this operation." Sarila dashed to the Meadery. Ysgrig laughed. "Oh, no you don't!" He grinned, running to keep up with Sarila. "I'll beat you there!" Sarila stuck her tongue out in a childlike manner to her brother as they ran. "Not even in your dreams, silly-Sarilly!"

The twins entered the Meadery, and Sarila could already tell there was a problem. By the door was a recently-killed skeever, its blood still flowing crimson. She shuddered in disgust and found herself standing before who she presumed to be Sabjorn. He scoffed impatiently. "What are you two gawking at? Can't you see I have problems here?" He sneered in annoyance. "Is something…wrong?" Ysgrig asked as he stepped over the skeever's corpse. "Are you kidding me? Look at this place. I'm supposed to be holding a tasting of the new Honningbrew Reserve for the Captain of the Guard. If he sees the meadery in this state, I'll be ruined." Sabjorn's eyes adopted a sadness in them, but his facial expression still remained stern.

Sarila shyly stepped forward. "I could help if you wanted me to." She meekly offered. Sabjorn guffawed. "You? I'm sorry, dear, but I don't think someone like _you_ would be able to take care of all these skeevers by yourself." He shook his head, smiling. "And what makes you think she'd be doing it alone?" Ysgrig raised his sword and made a show of twirling it, only to have Sabjorn roll his eyes as he sheathed his blade. "Oh, really? And I don't suppose you'd just do it out of the kindness of your heart, would you? I hope you're not expecting to get paid until the job's done."

"You'd better, or I yell 'skeever.'" Ysgrig threatened. Sabjorn's eyes widened and he held his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay. No need to make rash decisions." He dug around in his satchel and pulled out two coin purses, each containing 250 Septims. He handed them to the siblings. "That's half of it. You get the rest when the job's done." Sabjorn promised. "My only demand is that these vermin are permanently eliminated before my reputation is completely destroyed." He clenched his fists at the thought of his reputation's destruction. "How do we 'permanently' clear the vermin?" Sarila asked.

Sabjorn grinned and reached into his pocket, pulling out a bottle. "I bought some poison. I was going to have my lazy, good-for-nothing assistant Mallus handle it, but he seems to have vanished. If you plant this in the vermin's nest, it should stop them from ever coming back." "You've got yourself a deal, old man. Those skeevers better start packing, because once we're in, there's no stopping us." Ysgrig cracked his knuckles. "Don't come back until every one of those things are dead." Sabjorn ordered, handing the Honningbrew Meadery key to Sarila, and the poison bottle to Ysgrig.

Sarila and Ysgrig headed into the back room where Sabjorn kept his barrels full of mead. Sarila waved her finger to the stairs that lead to the basement of the meadery. "Watch your step, sis. There's a bear trap down there." Ysgrig warned. Sarila nodded and sidestepped the trap. She placed the key in the keyhole and turned it, unlocking the basement door. "Let's get this over with." Sarila mumbled, stepping into the basement as she unsheathed her dagger.

Ysgrig quietly closed the heavy wooden door behind them, as to avoid attracting any unwanted attention from the pesky skeevers. Sarila heard a sort of skittering sound across the concrete floor. She felt a sort of tightening on her leather boots. Sarila looked down to see a skeever gnawing on her left boot. Startled by the sudden attack on her shoe, she screeched and kicked her left leg wildly, flinging the skeever into the wall where its furry back broke in half. "You alright, sis?" Ysgrig asked. "I'm fine, but I think my boot has seen better days." She quietly chuckled, looking at the small bite marks in the leather.

Sarila was about to step forward, but Ysgrig placed a hand on her shoulder and held her back. "See that skeever over there?" Ysgrig whispered. Sarila looked closer to the opposite end of the hall, and noticed a large skeever resting on the ground. She mentally hit herself for not being careful enough. "I want to show you a trick. Hand me your dagger." Sarila, trusting her brother's judgment, handed her ebony dagger to him. "Bows and arrows are useful weapons to have, especially for hitting attackers from a distance, but they can be heavy and too large to carry around." Ysgrig informed Sarila, who was listening intently, curious to see where her brother was headed with this information.

"That's why you can use your dagger for ranged fighting. Watch and learn, Sarila." Ysgrig grasped Sarila's dagger firmly in his hand. He raised his arm and quickly flung the dagger through the air with great force, the dagger flipping upside down several times as it flew. The trajectory of the dagger directed it right into the skeever's side. It squirmed wildly, letting out a few painful cries until it stopped moving entirely.

Sarila's mouth gaped in surprise at her brother's technique. "That was amazing, Ysgrig!" She praised. "You saw how the dagger flipped as it went through the air, right?" He asked, to which Sarila answered with a nod of the head. "Even if, by pure chance, the hilt of the dagger hits the foe instead of the blade, it will still cause them harm. The hilt of a dagger, especially ebony, is very thick, and will hurt if it hits someone or something. If the hilt hits your target in the head, it will most certainly stun them, sometimes even knock them out if you toss it hard enough." Ysgrig explained.

"It's amazing how far you've come, Ysgrig. You've changed from the energetic boy who killed rabbits to a strong-willed man who can hold his own." Sarila smiled at her twin. "For now, let's keep on going forward. There are several dead ones up here, including the ones we just killed, so there are bound to be more ahead." Ysgrig warned his sister, raising his blade. The two crept up to the opening in the wall, but Ysgrig briefly stopped in front of the skeever he'd killed. He pulled Sarila's ebony dagger out of its rotting flesh and handed it back to Sarila. "Wouldn't want you to go without that, now would we?" He grinned, walking past Sarila into the hole in the wall.

Sarila followed behind him, grasping her dagger in her hand, determined to keep it with her at all times. Suddenly, she felt a sticky sensation in her mouth. She realized, to her dismay, she had walked into a spider web. "Disgusting." She muttered, spitting out little chunks of spider webs that had gotten cozy in her teeth. Ysgrig chuckled at his sister's disgust and continued moving forward.

The siblings had gotten deeper into the cave. They had dispatched of several more skeevers, and a few frostbite spiders. "You know what this means, right? More skeevers down here?" Ysgrig asked. Sarila shrugged. "Since there are more skeevers down here, it means we're close to the nest. Get ready to face even more of them." Ysgrig notified his sister, who was sidestepping corpses of the creatures they'd killed.

Ysgrig and Sarila slowly entered a cavernous area. Several skeevers sat by the large rock that divided the other part of the cave from the one the two siblings were in. Ysgrig snuck up on two skeevers that lay right next to each other and stuck his sword through them both. Sarila stabbed one of the nearer skeevers through the throat before she removed her dagger and tossed it into another skeever's brain, just like Ysgrig had taught her. Sarila scurried over to collect her dagger when she was surprised by a flying fireball.

"SARILA! GET BACK!" Ysgrig yelled to Sarila. Sarila didn't need his warning, though, and was already fleeing from the unknown attacker. She had managed to pull her weapon from the skeever's corpse before she was attacked, but she was still frightened. "It's a person, Sarila! It's a person!" Ysgrig repeated. "Leave us alone! We just want to take care of the pest problem, and then we'll go!" Ysgrig poked his head above the rock and shouted to the attacker, but his efforts of peace were responded to with more fireballs and a whip of lightning. Sarila briefly looked around the rock to identify their attacker. It was a grungy man with a pony tail, and his armor was made of fur. She darted back behind the rock and readied her dagger.

"Please, don't make me kill you, sir!" Sarila begged as he rapidly shot fireballs at the twins. "P-please! I don't want to kill you!" Sarila now had tears streaming down her face. She had killed countless animals, fish, creatures, but she didn't want to directly kill another being such as herself. She could sense the man getting closer as she heard footsteps through the crashing of fireballs. Right as the man appeared right next to Sarila, she raised her dagger.

The man's head exploded, covering Sarila in his blood and brains. She hadn't even touched him with the dagger. She turned around to face Ysgrig, who was still holding his sword, covered in the man's hot, sticky brains. Sarila took one look at the gore covering her, and she felt her previous meal rising to the top of her throat. She keeled over and starting vomiting up everything she had eaten that day, Ysgrig holding her bloodied hair behind her as he patted her back. "It's alright, sis. It's alright." Ysgrig gently whispered.

Sarila shuddered as she rose up, wiping her mouth clean of the vomit's residue. She crushed Ysgrig in a hug, tears streaming down her face. "I was so scared, Griggy! I thought I was going to have to kill a person! A living person!" She sobbed. "Sarila, I knew you didn't want to hurt him. That's why I did it myself." Ysgrig replied, rubbing his sister's back.

Sarila released Ysgrig, who looked at the strange man's corpse. "What if that man had a wife, what if he had kids?" Sarila asked, wiping salty tears from her eyes as Ysgrig searched a journal he'd found on the body. "Looks like the only kids he had were these skeevers. Apparently, his name was Hamelyn. I suppose he saw himself as their master of some sort, according to his journal." Ysgrig mused. "What…what should we do with it?" Ysgrig mumbled. Sarila took the brownish journal from her brother's hands, not bothering to read the contents. "I know exactly what we should do."

Sarila had placed the journal on Hamelyn's alchemy table. She readied the flames spell in her hand and brought forth a river of flames upon the journal, turning it to a smoking pile of ash. Ysgrig poured half of the poison on the skeever nest and saved the other half for the mead vat. "Sabjorn's got rid of the pests, but not rid of the poison." Ysgrig mischievously smiled as the twins walked to the brewing chambers.


	25. Bloodstained Innocence

**A/N: Hey…it's been WAY too long. I know I said I was probably going to post one more chapter all those nights ago in December, and it's been like two months. EW. I'm trying the best I can to write the story while dealing with school and figure skating, so bear with me, people! To the story!**

Sarila dangled her arms over the bannister in the upper floor of the Bannered Mare in a depressed manner. She sorted through her thoughts and recorded everything that had happened that day in the notebook of her mind. Imperial transporting prisoners, a dragon flying over the city, and of course, the most gut-wrenching thing to cross Sarila's mind; nearly being forced to kill a person, one of her own kind. Had Ysgrig not been there, Sarila would not have had the nerve to kill Hamelyn, and she would have never seen the light of day again.

Mallus was of course overjoyed at the completion of Sarila's mission, and immediately took charge of the meadery. In the midst of Mallus's glee, he did not think about the consequences of failing to inform the twins of Hamelyn's presence in the caves. He soon found the collar of his tunic caught in the hands of an enraged Ysgrig, who wasted no time in confronting Mallus about Hamelyn. Mallus had never felt more intimidated in his life, and felt tiny globules of sweat beading up on his forehead as he stared into Ysgrig's fiery eyes.

Sarila slightly smiled at the thought of Mallus scared out of his skins by _her brother._ She had still not come to terms of his evolution. To Sarila, he was still the silly little jokester she knew as a girl, although one crisis could morph him into a cunning warrior. She began to wonder what Ysgrig went through after the loss of their family, and after he encountered Chalvia in her miniscule shack.

As if Sarila's thoughts had summoned him, Ysgrig appeared next to Sarila and rested his arms on the bannister, shifting his weight forward. "Are you alright, Sarila?" Ysgrig asked, looking into his sister's clouded eyes. Sarila faced him briefly before staring forward, down into the fire pit of the Bannered Mare. "Can you tell me more about your life with Chalvia all those years?" Sarila requested, picking a loose piece of thread from her dress.

Ysgrig smiled at the memories and nodded. "Alright. I told you how I met Chalvia, so how about I tell you a little bit about a few days after we met?" Ysgrig asked. Sarila thought for a moment. "Why a few days after? What's so special about that?" Ysgrig chuckled at his sister's undying curiosity. "You'll soon find out, sis."

 _It had been three days after Ysgrig met Chalvia, and fourteen days since his family's deaths. Ysgrig was slowly coming to terms with the loss of his mother, father, and sister, yet his heart ached greatly for them. If he could only be hugged by his mother, gather wood to chop with his father, and play Olaf One-Eye and Numinex with his sister just one more time, he would be the happiest boy on Nirn. He brushed the untamed locks of hair from his face and sighed wistfully, the lush, green blades of grass swaying in the gentle breeze._

 _"Race you to the hill!" Chalvia grinned, breaking into a dash towards the hill. "Hey! You got a head start! No fair!" Ysgrig childishly chastised, running after the Redguard girl. Chalvia clambered up the hill and flopped down on her belly before Ysgrig had even begun to scale the hill. "I win!" She gasped between breaths for air. "Sure, you just keep telling yourself that." Ysgrig stuck his tongue out playfully as he walked up the hill. Chalvia suddenly grew more interested in something towards the bottom of the hill. "Look! A fox!" She giddily exclaimed. Ysgrig shifted his attention to the small, red fox that scurried around aimlessly. "It's so cute! I wonder if he's-" Chalvia stopped mid-sentence when she saw Ysgrig brandishing his toy sword, emitting a fierce battle cry as he bounded down the hill._

 _The fox, alerted by Ysgrig's presence and intentions of attack, gave a frightened shriek and began to trot away, only to fall to the ground, dead. A dark puddle of blood began to form around the fox's dead form, and Ysgrig pulled his sword from its neck. Chalvia gasped and sputtered, flabbergasted at Ysgrig's unjust killing of this poor, innocent animal. She stormed down the hill, fire in her eyes._

 _Ysgrig grinned, flashing Chalvia his pearly whites as he picked up the bloodied corpse of the young fox, clearly proud of his accomplishment. "Why did…why did you do that?!" Ysgrig's smile faded from his face when the words left Chalvia's lips. "What? Kill the fox?" Ysgrig asked. "That fox did nothing wrong to you, and you just went and killed the poor thing! It must've been scared to death! How could you?!" Chalvia angrily shouted, stomping her foot on the ground as she crossed her arms, a furious scowl upon her normally pretty face._

 _Ysgrig felt the familiar pinprick of tears forming in his eyes, the salty droplets threatening to spill out onto his face and clothes. He briefly remembered Sarila scolding him for killing a rabbit._ "Ysgrig, that's horrible! That poor little rabbit must have been scared to death before you killed it! Shame on you!" _The words of his deceased sister echoed in his head as he tried to shake the thoughts out. "I'm going to look for flowers, come find me when you're ready to say sorry!" Chalvia spat, stomping off into the distance. Ysgrig growled beneath his breath. "Fine! I didn't want to play with you anyway, you stupid girl!" He shouted after her, though his insults fell on deaf ears._

 _Ysgrig grumbled about the incident, tossing the dead fox into some underbrush before finding some small rocks by an old wine bottle. He palmed a smooth, greyish rock in his hand, and angrily tossed it into the same underbrush. He slowly began to calm down as he tossed rocks into the underbrush, each rock rustling the leaves before it hit the ground. Swish. Clank. Swish. Clank. Swish. Clank. "EEEEEEE! HELP!"_

 _Ysgrig immediately perked up at the girlish screams that freed him from his rock-tossing cycle. He refrained from throwing the old wine bottle he had just picked up, and instead held it close to his chest. "That was Chalvia!" Ysgrig gasped to himself, grasping his toy sword firmly in his hand. He snuck closer to where he had heard the scream from. The second shriek had confirmed that he was headed in the right direction. Ysgrig pushed through some bushes and peeked through the leaves._

" _Please, leave me alone! I have nothing for you to take!" Chalvia pleaded, tears streaked down her pretty face. "You got nothin', but that ain't mean your family don't! Where they at, girly? Tell me now, 'else you want this sword through your neck." The gruff voice of a bandit threatened. "I told you! They're dead!" Chalvia desperately reasoned. Ysgrig silently gasped as the bandit pulled his sword out of his sheath. He had to act fast, or Chalvia wouldn't be getting out of this alive. Ysgrig viewed the two potential weapons in his hands; his toy sword, and the old wine bottle he'd found by the rocks. Ysgrig immediately ruled out his toy sword, as it was on the verge of breaking. It was for killing small animals, not people. Ysgrig instead smashed the bottle on the ground, shards flying onto the earth. Ysgrig cringed when he saw the bandit stop walking towards Chalvia._

" _What was that?" The bandit growled, searching for the source of the cracking sound. Ysgrig panicked, grabbing the shard of glass that was about as long as his forearm. He emerged from the bush and gave another fierce battle cry, attracting the bandit's immediate attention. "What in the-"_

 _Ysgrig plunged the glass shard into the man's heart. The man grasped his chest and tried to pull the shard out, before collapsing to the ground in a shower of blood. Chalvia, who was only a foot away, began to back away from the river of blood that began to flow towards her. She looked at the man's corpse, then at Ysgrig, whose clothes were bloodstained. Her body shook when she released a frightened sob that she had been holding in, tears streaming from her eyes. She slowly made her way towards Ysgrig, her legs shaking with each step she took. She threw her arms around his skinny neck, sobbing into his shoulder._

 _Ysgrig awkwardly stood in place before wrapping his arms around his friend's back, comforting her as best he could. In truth, he himself was frightened as well. Not only had he nearly witnessed his only friend's murder, but he had killed someone. It wasn't a rabbit or a fox, but a person. A person with a heart that beat, a brain that thought, and a goal to survive the harsh land of Skyrim. Ysgrig let the thoughts circulate in his mind as Chalvia continued crying into his shoulder, and he slowly came to the realization that he had killed one of his own kind, something not even his own parents had done._

 _That was the day that Ysgrig had lost any innocence he'd had left._

 _That was the day that, unbeknownst to Ysgrig, Chalvia had fallen in love._


	26. Auburn Braids

**A/N: Hey, hey, crazy bananas! It's ME! I had to get up early since my mom had company, so I figured: "Why not write a little bit in my fanfiction?"**

 **Okay, before the story starts, I have some things to mention. No, no, nothing bad, so take that fearful look off your face. 22dreamer commented saying that there should be a relationship between Brynjolf and Sarila. There** _ **is**_ **going to be a relationship, and it** _ **will**_ **include Sarila, but not necessarily with Brynjolf. Don't worry, I have a plan for a relationship with Brynjolf, but Sarila's going to wind up with someone else eventually.**

 **As I mentioned before, I'm going to go in-depth about Ysgrig's story after his family's death, and I'm going to continue going into detail about Sarila and Ytri's time together. I'm going to implement some of the OC's in the questlines, but be warned: not all of them will survive. Who lives and who dies is a mystery for now, but I have the entire outline of the story written out on my iPod, so I just have to add details and dialogues.**

 **Enough talk! The story begins NOW!**

Sarila had woken up early that morning, her golden locks shrouding her face. She swept the pesky hair from her view and exhaled, staring blankly into the seared slaughterfish on her plate. She picked up her fork and began to cut into the seared slaughterfish. "Need a knife for that?" Hulda, who was rooting around in some cabinets, asked. Sarila merely shrugged and shook her head in response, her hair swaying with each movement she made.

Sarila was so focused on devouring her food that she'd hardly noticed a familiar redhead girl enter the bar and sit in the barstool next to her. "A bottle of ale, please." The girl spoke, her braids dangling behind her as she looked around the bar. Hulda nodded and pulled an orange bottle of ale from the shelf of the counter. "Five Septims, please." The girl nodded and dug in her satchel, pulling out five golden Septims. One stray Septim rolled off the counter and under Sarila's barstool.

Sarila heard the clinking of the coin and reached down to pick it up for the girl. She handed the Septim to the redhead, who smiled at her. "Thank ye, miss." Sarila nodded and continued eating her slaughterfish meal as the girl paid Hulda, who handed over the bottle of ale. Sarila noticed a familiar accent in the girl's voice, one that she noted was similar to Brynjolf's. The girl turned to Sarila, sipping on her ale. "You know, your hair's as gold as the Septims, miss. I envy you." She complimented.

Sarila turned to the girl and smiled. "Thank you!" Sarila suddenly looked closer at the girl. She had the same red hair and braids as the girl in the cart. Her pale skin was burned in several places, and a large cut was evident on her forehead. This time, the girl was conscious, and Sarila noted that the girl's eyes were ice blue. "You seem awfully familiar, were you, by any chance, in a cart yesterday?" Sarila asked curiously.

The mysterious girl's smile fled from her face, and her lips quivered. "There…there was an attack on Helgen…a dragon. I was trying to cross the border a few days ago, and there were some Stormcloaks and Imperials and…and…one of them clocked me on the head, and I just…" The girl stumbled over her words, fear in her icy eyes. "So many people…I could feel the blood of the man who was beheaded before me on the block. Right as the executioner lifted his mighty axe, an enormous, black dragon landed on the tower behind him. It used some kind of…magic." She explained.

Sarila's face grew worried, and she slightly raised her right eyebrow. "Magic?" The redhead nodded. "Aye, it began shouting all this nonsense. Couldn't make a word of it out. It knocked the executioner to the ground. It saved my life, but killed so many people. I can't forget the smell of burning flesh." Sarila's blood once again froze. _Lyvette's nightmare came true._

"You don't have to say anymore, it's fine. I saw the exact same dragon fly over the city yesterday; it headed up into the mountains." Sarila informed the girl. "At any rate, my name is Sarila. It's nice to meet you." Sarila held out her hand for a handshake. The girl took Sarila's hand with a warm smile. "My name is Valelia Sharp-Sun. Most people just call me Valie, though." Valelia took a sip of her ale.

"I'm sorry this happened to you, Valie. Gods know what you've been through, and at the age of, hmm…sixteen, I'm guessing?" Sarila asked. "Actually, I turn eighteen next month." Valie answered. "Oh, you're older than I'd perceived you to be. I'm seventeen, and so's my twin brother." "It was certainly lucky to escape that place. People tend to underestimate young women, but I had Ralof on my side, and things turned out alright." "Who's Ralof?" Sarila asked. "Ralof is a Stormcloak soldier. He was one of the men in the cart with me. He helped me out of Helgen keep, and convinced his sister to give us a place to stay in her house in Riverwood." Sarila smiled at the sound of someone so benevolent. There were bandits, thieves, assassins, and murderers, but there were still good Samaritans out there in the world.

"Ralof seems like a noble character. My father wanted to join the Stormcloaks. Too bad he died before he got the chance." Sarila frowned. "What happened? Sickness? Accident?" "Thalmor." Valie nodded in sympathy. "Aye, my parents are out there somewhere. I don't know what happened to them or where they are, but I don't care to find out. They're probably still in Cyrodiil." Sarila grew very curious for a moment as to why Valelia was in Whiterun. "Say, what brings you to Whiterun anyway?" Sarila inquired, forking another piece of seared slaughterfish in her mouth. "I came here to warn Jarl Balgruuf about the return of the dragons. Riverwood is going to need some more troops in case that sinister sneak decides to strike there next."

"What about you? What are you doing in Whiterun, Sarila?" Valie asked with a look of curiosity. "I came here to complete a job for a contact in Riften. In my line of work, you have to be stealthy, and you need a golden tongue." Valie thought for a moment before parting her plump lips to speak. "I've never been to Riften. I've been to Solitude, even Morthal, but not Riften. What's it like there?" She asked. "It had a fall from glory, but there's still plenty to do. There's a market full of shops, a fishery, and, of course, the renowned Temple of Mara." Sarila explained. "I've heard of the Thieves' Guild, and their presence beneath the sewers. I'm not entirely certain, but I might consider joining up. I've heard there's plenty of coin in that business." Valelia whispered.

Sarila smiled slightly. "Well, I don't know who told you that information, but it's correct. The Thieves' Guild does a lot of dirty work, but the benefits are unspeakable. That's why I'm here; the contact is allied with the Thieves' Guild. Therefore, I am required to do her bidding here." Sarila explained. Valie nodded before leaning in to quietly whisper in Sarila's ear. "Well, my mind is probably made up, then. I'll join the Thieves' Guild first chance I get. It looks like you and I will be seeing more of each other. That is, when I actually have time to join." Valelia whispered. Sarila nodded and smiled as Valie went back to sipping on her ale.

"Sis, we'd better leave for home now. It looks like it's going to storm later." Ysgrig called, strolling down the stairs. "Alright, I'll meet you at the gate." Sarila replied, forking more slaughterfish into her mouth. Ysgrig nodded and exited the inn. "I assume that was your brother?" Valie asked just as Sarila polished off her meal. "Indeed. We have to head back to The Rift now. We'll meet again soon, Valelia. You take care of yourself now, you hear?" Valelia giggled and nodded, pouring more ale down her throat. "Goodbye, Sarila!" She called as Sarila walked out the door, lugging her pack with her.

"Who was that? Friend of yours?" Ysgrig asked as the two walked across the barren fields of Skyrim. "Yes, her name is Valelia. She was one of the prisoners in the carts we saw yesterday." Sarila answered, sidestepping a large rock. "You know, sis, I thought she looked awful familiar." Ysgrig mused. Sarila grunted and tugged on the rough strap of her pack. "She was lucky to escape the dragon attack at Helgen. Stendarr has been incredibly generous." Sarila casually stated. Ysgrig, however, did not expect that statement to leave Sarila's mouth, and his jaw practically fell to the ground.

"Helgen was attacked by the dragon?!" Ysgrig asked in shock. Sarila sighed. "Yes. Valelia was next in line for execution when the dragon swooped down and attacked. It's kind of ironic, really. He saved Valelia's life, yet slaughtered dozens of other people. Gods know who else got out alive." "Shor's bones. Why have the Gods confounded Nirn so?" Ysgrig breathed.

"It's a mystery in itself where the dragon emerged from. Some sort of gaping hole in Oblivion, maybe?" Sarila theorized as she walked, stopping when she realized she had carelessly stumbled into a thick puddle of mud. "Perhaps. Maybe the dragon is Akatosh. Either seems plausible." Ysgrig told a grumbling Sarila, who was busy pulling her boot out of the mud.

Further down the road, the twins had made their way into The Rift. "I still don't understand how Lyvette could have a dream that predicted the exact events of Helgen. This could either be a blessing or a curse." Sarila mused. Ysgrig shrugged. "This Lyvette girl seems to have an important role in your life. If I didn't know any better, I'd have thought she was your daughter." Ysgrig chuckled. Sarila smiled. "No, but she's very close to one. That little girl has survived for so long on her own, it's a miracle. I'm just glad I found her when I did. Those wolves can be awfully dangerous." Sarila shuddered as she thought of Lyvette's fate if she hadn't rescued her from the wolves.

"Sarila, look! We're almost home!" Ysgrig giddily grinned as he pointed to the familiar structure of the old fortress in the distance. "Race you there!" He beamed. "Not like you'll win, anyway!" Sarila laughed as the two took off.


	27. Secrecy

**A/N: Hey guys! Two chapters in one day, how cool is that? …okay, it's not THAT great, but it's something! I'm trying the best I can, so stick with me here, folks!**

 **As always, reviews are appreciated. But anyway, to the story!**

"You're back!" Chalvia exclaimed, leaping up from her chair to greet the exhausted twins. "Hello, Chalvia. It's good to see you again." Ysgrig smiled, pulling Chalvia into a hug. Sarila smirked as Chalvia grinned from ear to ear at Ysgrig's embrace. "Hello, Sarila. Good evening, sir. Welcome back!" Mattha, who was reading a book at the nearby table, called to Sarila and Ysgrig. "Hello, Mattha! How have things been coming along?" Ysgrig asked the bookworm. "Oh, things are just splendid, sir. Qattindra and Caehir took down a wild mammoth just a few hours ago, so we'll be having mammoth steak and leeks for dinner, courtesy of our fine chef, Chalvia, of course." Mattha and Chalvia shared a smile between each other. "Excellent! Are Caehir and Qattindra alright? Mammoths can be quite deadly, you know." Ysgrig mused. Mattha nodded. "Qattindra received a slice on the arm from the mammoth's tusk, but Sa'etha is already tending to her wound, so she'll be fine." Mattha explained. "That's good to hear. I'll be sure to drop in and give Caehir and Qattindra my thanks for hunting such a dangerous creature to procure a meal." Ysgrig responded.

"I'm actually quite tired from our trip. I think I'll skip dinner tonight and have whatever's left in the morning." Ysgrig stretched his arms out and set his pack on the nearby end table. A look of disappointment flashed in Chalvia's eyes for a brief moment, and it seemed as though only Sarila had noticed it. Chalvia nodded and smiled. "Alright. Good night, Ysgrig." "Good night, everyone." Ysgrig headed down the hallway to the door next to his office, entering the room and closing the door behind him.

Sarila sat down at the table Mattha was seated at. The Dunmer flipped five pages every thirty seconds in her book. Sarila watched in amazement at Mattha's voracious appetite for literature. "What book are you reading?" Sarila asked. "It's called _Chance's Folly_. It's about a thief named Chance. She gets a bit more than she had originally anticipated." Mattha explained, closing the book. She took a few bites out of the red apple on the plate before her before returning to a new book. Mattha picked up the book and walked to her room, still endlessly following the words of the literature.

Chalvia sat next to Sarila and uncorked a bottle of wine. She let the liquid slide down her throat before removing her lips from the bottle. She placed the wine on the table and sighed. "Something wrong, Chalvia?" Sarila asked, mentally giving Chalvia a knowing look. "Not…not really, no." Sarila rolled her eyes at such an obvious lie. "It's Ysgrig." Sarila quietly whispered, causing Chalvia to jolt upright. "Come again?" Chalvia asked, an all too familiar rosy glow appearing on her cheeks. "I know how you feel about my brother, it's as plain as day."

"Gods above, please don't tell him, or anyone else. It's true. I'm absolutely head-over-heels for him." Chalvia hurriedly whispered beneath her breath. "It's okay, I won't tell. Secrecy." Sarila promised. Chalvia exhaled the breath she had been holding and sighed in relief. "What do I do? I've felt this way about him for so long, yet he never notices." Chalvia desperately asked. Sarila gave a sympathetic smile. Chalvia was clearly despondent. "You never know. He might feel the same, but I can't tell. My brother was always hard to read as a child, and he's hard to read as a grown man, too."

Chalvia took another swig of her wine and wiped her mouth on her sleeve. "What exactly happened on your trip? No one got hurt, I hope?" Chalvia inquired curiously. Sarila shook her head. "No. There were some close calls, but we're fine." She answered honestly. "What do you mean 'close calls'?" Chalvia questioned. "There was a man in the caves we ventured into. He was crazed, and he somehow had the ability to control skeevers. When we killed most of them, he came out from his hiding and nearly blasted us to pieces with fireballs. He appeared right next to me, and I didn't have the nerve to kill him." Sarila informed the worried Chalvia. "So…?" "Ysgrig killed him. Saved my life."

The two were silent for a few moments before Chalvia licked her lips and parted them to speak. "Ysgrig saved my life too, plenty of times." Sarila nodded at her words. "He told me about when you were held up by the bandit, and he had to kill him to save you." Sarila commented. "He…he talked about us? Really?" Chalvia blushed once more. "From his choice of words, he seemed really nervous when he saw you being held up. He knew that if he failed to save you, he'd never forgive himself for letting you, his only friend, die." "Oh…" Chalvia sighed wistfully and buried her head in her hands. "I really wish Ysgrig would notice me." She mumbled, her voice muffled by her hands. "He does notice you, Chalvia. You're important to him." Sarila appeased. "I suppose you're right, I just wish he'd notice me…well, romantically." Chalvia's blush seemed to grow brighter on her face.

"You wish who would notice you romantically?" A deep voice asked from the hallway. Chalvia jumped out of her skin when the words were spoken. "OMIR!" She shouted in shock as she turned around, facing the Khajiit blacksmith. "N-no one, Om-mir." Chalvia shuddered, laughing nervously. "It's no one, really. Don't worry about it." Sarila backed Chalvia up. Omir scratched his whiskers and sighed. "If you want to find out if Ysgrig loves you, work up the courage and go out on a limb to ask him. This one knows many things, and one of the many things is that you will never know unless you make an effort to." Omir suggested, walking to the exit.

Chalvia's mouth sputtered and failed to form words properly at his knowledge of her love for Ysgrig. "How did-what—Ysgrig-who?" Sarila found herself surprised as well. This Khajiit clearly had a keen eye. Omir chuckled and brushed his blacksmith's apron off, small clouds of soot lingering in the air. "This one silently watches and observes. It is the only way to truly gain knowledge and insight." He replied as he walked out the door and into the grassy lands of Skyrim.


	28. Family Fishing

"Sarila. Get up."

The ten year old Sarila arose from her makeshift bed of hay and yawned, rubbing her violet eyes.

"Ytri, do I have to?" She sighed, stretching her legs. Ytri gave a slight scowl, but nodded. "It's high time you learn how to fish. We're running low on food anyway, and we don't need to make another trip into any cities. Not after last time…" Ytri winced for a moment before the normal hardened expression returned to her face.

Sarila grumbled under her breath and picked up her small backpack. She tugged the leather straps, her irritated skin crying out in pain beneath the thick leather. "Which way to the river?" Sarila asked. Ytri shielded her eyes from the bright sun before pointing forward. "It should be just up ahead. We'll get there in probably five minutes or so. Come on, kid." Ytri waved her arm forward as she began to walk, Sarila lagging behind ever so slightly.

Soon enough, the two reached the river. Ytri brushed the locks of brown hair that weren't in a ponytail out of her face. "Alright, first off, I want you to know that this is hard when you first start, but it gets easier. We don't have a fishing rod, of course, but we do have this." Ytri slightly smiled, lifting up an empty basket. "I got a smaller one for you too, so it'll be much easier to handle." Ytri added, pulling a smaller basket from the large basket she held. Sarila looked puzzled as she took the basket. "But Ytri, where did you find these?" She asked innocently.

Ytri opened her mouth to speak, but ignored the girl's question. She quickly looked away into the river, where several River Betties splashed around. "Why don't you try catching the River Betties near the shore? It should be nice and easy." Ytri suggested. Sarila nodded, having forgotten her own question.

Slowly, Sarila trudged through the rushing waters of the river and scooped up a River Betty as the rest swam away. Sarila giggled at the little fish that swam around in her basket full of water. "Look at the fish, Ytri! It's so pretty!" She beamed in adoration. Ytri's mouth tugged upward in a smile that was barely noticeable before her normal face returned a split second later. "That's…that's great, Sarila. Swim back to shore and then you can look at your fish." Ytri told Sarila, who was still busy giggling at the pretty fish and its gorgeous pink scales.

Suddenly, the currents began to pick up in the river. Sarila gasped and struggled to balance as the river began to swallow her up. In the confusion, she had tipped the basket over, freeing her fishy captive, who swam away into the deep. Ytri gasped and dove into the water after Sarila, who was being washed away in the current. "Ytri! Help! What do I do?!" Sarila splashed around in the water, firmly clinging to the basket as she panicked. "Just keep swimming, Sarila. Just keep swimming." Ytri instructed, keeping her voice at a calm level.

Sarila pushed through the water, swimming in large strokes as she tried so desperately to reach Ytri. Sarila tossed the basket onto the shore as she paddled through the clear water. Ytri held out her hand for Sarila to grab ahold of, standing in place in the midst of the raging currents. Slowly, Sarila edged closer and closer to Ytri, looking into her light green eyes for comfort. Soon, their fingers touched, and a moment later, Ytri had pulled Sarila into her arms, walking out of the river. "That was close. We'd better not let you fish again until the river's calmed down." Ytri frowned, shaking off her soaked clothes. Sarila squeezed water from her golden hair and walked over to her discarded basket, sighing in defeat.

Sarila's sadness turned to joy in a split second when she realized, in the midst of the chaos, a rather large salmon swam right into her basket, flopping around in desperation. Sarila giggled giddily and clapped her hands like a Horker. "Ytri! I caught a salmon!" She squealed. Ytri's sullen eyes suddenly brightened at Sarila's words. She strode over to the girl, who held up her basket like a trophy.

This time, Ytri failed to suppress her happiness, and broke out into a grin that was reflected upon Sarila's young, scarred face.

That night, the two ate better than they had for a very long time. Even the Twin Moons seemed to smile upon their makeshift camp, and the Luna Moths seemingly applauded Sarila with their little wingbeats.

Sarila opened her eyes and sat upright in her cot. She pulled the animal furs that covered her freezing body higher over her. "Someday, Ytri. Someday, I'll find you. Though you aren't family, you'll always be blood to me." Sarila murmured drowsily as she drifted off to sleep once more.


	29. Intentions

"Morning, Sarila!" Ysgrig greeted as Sarila, still in her light blue nightgown, sat down at the table for breakfast. Chalvia had prepared apple cabbage stew. Only Omir, Reea'th, Chalvia, and Qattindra were present at the table with the twins. Chalvia occasionally glanced at Ysgrig, who was eating the leftover mammoth steak. She blushed when the redheaded Nord caught her looking at him, and out of instinct, she quickly turned her head to the left, facing Qattindra.

"How's your arm, Qattindra?" Sarila asked to divert attention from the embarrassed Chalvia. Qattindra took a long slurp of her stew and wiped her mouth on her arm. "Getting better. Damned mammoth thought he could take Caehir and I down. I think that mammoth steak over there proves him wrong." Qattindra smirked, pointing to the mammoth steak with her good arm. The table was filled with silence for a few minutes, and the only sound that prevailed in the deafening silence was the clearing of Reea'th's throat. The Argonian grabbed his soup bowl and poured the stew down his throat. "Careful, Reea'th, you'll wash your stew down the wrong way." Chalvia warned. Reea'th swallowed the last gulp of his soup and placed the intricately designed bowl on the table. "I can manage. Thank you anyway, Chalvia." Reea'th cracked his scaly knuckles as he walked out of the dining hall, his tail dragging ungracefully behind him.

Omir watched silently as Chalvia continued to peek at Ysgrig every so often. When Chalvia caught Omir looking at her, he said nothing. He merely smiled, flashing her his shiny fangs. Chalvia blushed when she remembered that Omir had known of her affections for Ysgrig. Omir silently chuckled deep in his throat.

Qattindra gently caressed her bandaged arm, wincing only when too much pressure was put on it. She sighed in irritation. "What's wrong, Qattindra?" Ysgrig asked. Qattindra shook her head with a look of dismay on her face. "Sa'etha forbids me to endure any type of physical stress. That means no hunting, no exploring, and not even harvesting the crops!" Qattindra distressfully explained. Ysgrig scratched his stubble-covered chin. Sarila, however, piped up with an idea. "You could try reading. Mattha seems to enjoy it, and I'm sure she'd be happy to lend you a book or two." She suggested with a shrug.

Qattindra almost considered it, but shook her head in rejection and chuckled lightly. "As much as I care for Mattha, reading isn't exactly my hobby of choice. The only reason Mattha is so interested in books is because the Mavothan family has had a long line of scholars and bookworms. I prefer a good fight than a good book." "Well, it was worth a try. Maybe you could try a bit of alchemy with Sa'etha. Who knows, she might need an apprentice." Sarila enthusiastically stated. Qattindra sighed. "It sounds better than reading, at least. I'll go speak to her right now." Qattindra got up from her seat and pushed the chair in. She strode out of the dining hall and into the hallway to find Sa'etha in her laboratory, leaving her bowl of stew on the table, unfinished.

"Oh…she forgot her stew." Sarila noted. Chalvia nodded. "She always leaves her food unattended and comes back to it. Sometimes, Caehir or Mattha will get to it before she does, and she'll go wondering where her meal disappeared to." She chuckled lightly, Omir and Ysgrig joining her.

"Ysgrig, I'm going to return to Riften later today, if that's alright." Sarila suddenly spoke, prompting the table to look at her. Ysgrig nodded in understanding. "I understand; you need to get back to your friends and check on them." "Actually, you could come with me for a day or two if you wanted." Sarila suggested. Ysgrig thought for a moment. "I think that'd be best. I don't want you going back there alone, especially with all the beasts out there. We could also find Ytri while we're at it, because I know how much you want to find her." Ysgrig added. Sarila smiled. Her brother knew her so well.

"Do you two still have those potions I gave you?" Chalvia asked the twins. "Yes. Thankfully, we didn't need to use them." Ysgrig answered. "That's good to hear, I don't want either of you getting hurt now, understand?" Chalvia asked with a hint of seriousness in her voice. The siblings nodded in agreement. Chalvia smiled at the two as they walked to their rooms to get their backpacks for yet another adventure.

"You know, Ysgrig seems to think about you an awful lot." Omir's raspy voice drew Chalvia's immediate attention. "How do you know?" "This one knows much about many things. I am gifted in the art of smithing, though Khajiiti never miss an important detail." Omir answered, thinking back to his days in the Orc stronghold.

The sun peeked over the horizon as Sarila and Ysgrig set out into the wilderness. The two shared a smile before intently walking through the forests of The Rift, the leaves crunching beneath their feet. _Today will be a good day._ Sarila thought to herself as she strolled aside her brother.


	30. Painful Reunion

Sarila and Ysgrig decided to search for Ytri before returning to Riften. Sarila felt a sharp pang of guilt for leaving her friends clueless to her whereabouts. _Do they think I am kidnapped? Do they think I am hurt? Do they think I am dead?_ The thoughts endlessly buzzed around in Sarila's head as she walked, the sun slowly rising over the forest. "If I can remember correctly, Ytri had…black-no! -brown hair?" Ysgrig asked. Sarila smiled and nodded. "Yes, her hair was very pretty. She almost always had it up in a ponytail." She informed him.

Ysgrig suddenly looked at the ground in a sullen manner. "I still feel awful. If I didn't jump out of that man…what was his name…Terdel's-arms that night, he'd still be alive." Ysgrig sighed. Sarila frowned and patted him on the back. "Griggy, I used to blame myself too. We can't really let it tear us apart. Terdel is in Sovngarde now, a place where he can be at rest with people like him."

Sarila watched as a few birds flew overhead, the leaves of the trees chattering amongst each other with each light gust of wind. Her thoughts wandered to Ysgrig, Ytri and Terdel, Lyvette, Chalvia, and eventually the Thieves' Guild. "Didn't you mention that father had a friend in the Thieves' Guild?" Sarila inquired, peering into a cave opening. "He did. Mother mentioned it in a conversation with father. I can't remember the fellow's name, though. Something like…no, I can't remember." Ysgrig trailed off.

Sarila pondered her brother's words for a moment before parting her lips to speak. "What if Ytri had a friend in the guild?" She suggested aloud. Ysgrig shrugged. "It could be possible. I don't know the types of people she associated herself with." Sarila sighed. "She didn't associate with anyone after…after Terdel. I remember a few times we went to the cities like Whiterun and Windhelm, and the guards would try to arrest Ytri. I don't know what she did or why she did it, I just know that when we left, blood was spilled, and we never went back. She always kept me out of the cities, out of harm's way. That was our way of life." Sarila explained.

"Didn't Ytri have alliances with the Stormcloaks? Or something against the Thalmor?" Ysgrig questioned. "I'm not sure. She could have been allied with the Stormcloaks, seeing as she and Terdel were Talos worshippers. It's no mistake that she hates the Thalmor. They killed her betrothed before her eyes. And I don't think she would have rescued us and killed all those elves if she and Terdel didn't hold something against them." Sarila concluded.

Eventually, the twins came across a river. "Looks too wide to cross. Those currents look mighty strong, too." Sarila notified aloud. "We could just go around it and look for a path to cross." Ysgrig told his sister, walking ahead of her. Sarila looked into the river as she walked. She sighed wistfully as she spotted several River Betties gracefully swimming through the currents, the streaming sunlight bouncing off their pink scales. "The fish are so lovely in the sunlight." She commented to Ysgrig, who seemed interested in something by a tree. "Look, a rabbit." Ysgrig pointed to the furry little creature, which was busy nibbling on some tall grass. Sarila giggled at the rabbit's cuteness. It was one of the few pure things in the world.

"Not planning on killing it, I hope?" Sarila joked, nudging her brother gently on the arm. He sighed and shook his head, smiling from ear to ear. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you, sis?" He chuckled, fixing his backpack strap.

Sarila and Ysgrig made idle chatter as they walked alongside the river. Sarila began to recognize her surroundings. "Hold on a second, Ysgrig." Sarila darted over to a small clearing. Seeing nothing of interest in the vicinity, she dashed to another clearing.

In the clearing was a half-collapsed tent made of animal furs and bark strung together in a hasty and careless fashion.

Before the tent was a small circle of rocks. In the center of the circle was a pile of burnt wood. Sarila felt memories of the day she had been separated from Ytri flood back to her. She remembered the bear, the tree, the wolves, and the river.

"Sis? What's-" "This is where I got separated from Ytri! She got attacked by a bear and hid in a tree. I distracted the bear so she could escape, but I think she fell when a branch broke. I got attacked by wolves, and then I was swept away in the river." Sarila hurriedly explained, frantically searching for the tree Ytri had hid in.

Sure enough, a tree with a large, fallen branch stood firmly in the ground. The blood of the bear still stained the ground, though it was almost completely washed away from constant rain and erosion. "Ytri!" Sarila called. "Ytri!"

Back in the depths of her mind, Sarila heard a voice akin to Ytri's call out to her, though she knew it was her mind playing tricks on her. She pushed the voices from her head with great determination. She continued to aimlessly bound through the forest, Ysgrig in hot pursuit.

About an hour later, Sarila had worn herself out. She keeled over and panted profusely, her lungs screaming for air. Even in the cold climate of Skyrim, Sarila's neck and face were drenched with sweat. Ysgrig had finally caught up to Sarila, and he too bent over and caught his breath. The two looked around their surroundings as they caught their breaths, hoping for some kind of direction back to Riften.

They didn't find any directions to Riften, but they did find blood.

Fresh blood.

Ysgrig slowly walked over to the small blood puddle and examined it. The blood was crimson red, and it looked like it had been there for about a day or two. Ysgrig motioned for Sarila to look at what he had found. Sarila's heart pounded out of her chest. Ysgrig suddenly raised an eyebrow at the blood, and shook his head. "No, this looks like blood from a fox or wolf." He declared, prompting Sarila to release the breath she had been holding.

Sarila squinted and observed the color of the puddle. Off in the distance, she noticed another blood puddle, though Ysgrig was on the case before she had even made an effort to acknowledge it.

Ysgrig began to walk over to the puddle, but stopped when he noticed _another_ puddle off in the distance, this one bigger than the two previous ones. Soon, Ysgrig found himself following a trail of blood that got closer and closer to the river. Sarila took after her brother. Ysgrig continued to follow the blood until he had reached the end of the line, Sarila right behind him.

"Sari-"

"NO!"

Sarila's heart sped up and pounded out of her chest. She grew dizzy with fright, yet pushed the feelings away. Her legs shook and her brain failed to form words. She was overcome with emotions, her blood running hot and cold over and over again.

Sarila wasn't sure what she should do.

Crying seemed like the only reasonable option at this point.

There, on the rock by the river in a crimson pool of blood, was the one thing that mattered to Sarila at that very moment in time, unmoving and still.

In a positive sense, Sarila had accomplished her number one priority.

She had found Ytri.


	31. Stellar Wishes

Tears streamed down Sarila's pretty face. She let out a few heart-wrenching sobs and fell to her knees. Ysgrig placed a hand on Sarila's shoulder. It seemed as though Sarila's pain was invading Ysgrig's body, as he felt a great pain in his heart as he watched his sister mourn her friend's corpse.

Sarila reached out to the rock Ytri's decaying corpse rested on. She reached out to Ytri, but quickly looked away, tears in her violet eyes. She didn't like seeing Ytri like this. Her skin was rotting, and her right leg was all bone and no flesh. There was a gaping hole where her stomach used to be, her scarlet entrails splayed across her chest and onto the rock. There were small holes in her cheeks, revealing her decaying mouth and teeth. The part that disturbed Sarila the most was the lack of Ytri's left eye.

Sarila parted her lips to speak, though no words came as the salty tears invaded her mouth. _I was too late._ "Sarila…" Ysgrig began, though lost his words. Sarila gasped for air as the sobs continued to wrack her shaking body. She shuddered each second she sat before Ytri's bloodied, battered corpse. Sarila felt herself grow numb, and the world began to swivel endlessly before her eyes. "I-" Sarila reached out to grab onto whatever she could reach before she blacked out and hit the ground, the thud echoing through the seemingly peaceful forest.

When Sarila opened her eyes, she was greeted by a star-illuminated sky. The divine constellations seemed to reflect her face, now perfect and unscarred. The stars danced endlessly in the sky, their twinkling laughter ringing in Sarila's ears. They swirled around gracefully in a circular motion, clearing space in the night sky. Illusions of her parents laughing together, walking arm in arm, appeared in the night. Visions of Ytri appeared. She wore a gorgeous lavender dress that gracefully trailed behind her as she walked. Ytri's lips slowly tugged upwards into an enormous smile, something that Sarila had _never_ seen. Ytri began to laugh and run around, chased by a shrouded figure. Sarila was amazed at the sound of Ytri's beautiful laugh. If there were two things she had never witnessed, it was Ytri breaking out into full smile and laughing.

The shrouded figure created its own light, filling in its characteristics. His muscular figure and dark brown beard appeared, followed by his stunning brown eyes. He wore a ravishing green cloak with a cape that flew as he chased after Ytri. He shared his laughter with the happy woman before him as he caught her in his arms.

 _Terdel._

Sarila watched as the couple happily chased each other around the luminous night sky, laughing whenever one of them caught the other. _They look so happy._

"That's because we _are_ happy, Sarila." Ytri suddenly spoke, looking down at Sarila with her sparkling green eyes, much to Sarila's surprise. "But…how did you hear me?" Sarila asked, mesmerized by the elusive smile of her friend. "Sarila, Ytri and I are in Sovngarde. We've been in Sovngarde together for quite a while now. We're watching over you, just like your parents." Sarila's parents briefly appeared in a shadowy mist behind Ytri and Terdel before fading away into the night.

"You need to get home to Riften, Sarila. You tried to find me, and you did. There was nothing that could have been done." Ytri quietly told Sarila, reaching her arm down from the heavens to gently caress Sarila's unscarred cheek. Sarila felt a few tears fall from her violet eyes. "But…but you're both dead, and it's all my fault." She stated glumly, her meek voice no louder than a whisper. Ytri and Terdel simultaneously shook their heads and gently smiled at the young woman. "It is not your fault. Our own choices determined our destinies, and sealed our fates." Terdel replied. "Besides, Sarila," Ytri began, prompting Sarila to look at her as she dabbed her eyes dry. "Terdel and I are in Sovngarde, where all great Nordic warriors go. We're finally together again, at peace for the rest of eternity."

Sarila smiled sadly at Ytri's bittersweet words. "I'll miss you, Ytri." Sarila whispered. Ytri and Terdel smiled once more at Sarila. "Get back to Riften. Take care of Lyvette, Sarila. She's wondering where you are." Ytri instructed. "But…how did you know about Lyvette?" Sarila inquired once more. "As stated before, we're watching over you. Your parents are watching over you and your brother as well." Terdel explained, wrapping an arm around Ytri's shoulders.

"Before you awaken, I have one more thing to tell you." Ytri began. Sarila listened intently. "Anything, Ytri. I'll listen." Ytri smiled warmly at Sarila. "I want you to have my amulet of Talos. It means the world to me, and you do, too. That's why I want you to take it and wear it with pride." Ytri ordered with a sweet grin, Terdel nodding in approval. Sarila felt the tears threaten to spill from her eyes once more. Ytri was bequeathing her most prized possession to _her._ "I will, Ytri. I promise." Sarila murmured as she began to spin around in a veil of clouds and mist. "Talos be with you, Sarila." Terdel and Ytri seemed to whisper at the same time.

Sarila awoke to water being splashed upon her face. She gasped for air and slowly sat up. "Oh, thank the Gods you're alright, Sarila." Ysgrig sighed in relief. "What…what happened?" Sarila coughed, putting a hand to her throbbing head. She took her hand away when she felt warmness upon it, only to discover her hand was stained with blood. "You passed out and hit your head on the rock. You split your head open, but I poured some of Chalvia's potion down your throat. You almost fell into the river, but I thankfully stopped that from happening." Ysgrig explained, slowly looking over to Ytri's body.

"What…do you want to do with Ytri?" Ysgrig gently asked, putting a hand on his sister's shoulder as she wiped the blood on her hand off. Sarila said nothing, and only crawled towards Ytri's corpse. She frowned, tears forming in her eyes, but pushed through her sadness. She reached around Ytri's neck and unclasped her inscribed amulet of Talos, noting that dried blood had filled the grooves of the word "Ytri". Sarila palmed the beloved amulet in her hands before fastening it around her own neck.

Ysgrig watched solemnly as Sarila gently touched Ytri's decaying face. "I'm so sorry, Ytri." She whispered, a tear falling from her eyes onto Ytri's fleshless cheekbone. Sarila looked out into the river wistfully. She reached behind Ytri's chest with her left arm, careful not to grab her rotting entrails, and reached beneath her legs with her right arm, only stopping when her right leg began to crack more than it had. She slowly hoisted her deceased friend into her arms, slowly walking towards the river, being extra cautious as to not slip in Ytri's drying blood puddle. She knelt down, Ytri's cold body still snug in her arms, and gently set Ytri onto the surface of the rushing river. She took her arms from beneath Ytri, and watched as the gentle currents slowly carried her friend away. The wind gently blew and ruffled a few locks of Sarila's golden hair as if it were Ytri thanking her. Sarila promised herself not to cry, yet the tears broke through anyway as she silently sobbed.

"Just keep swimming, Ytri. Just keep swimming."


	32. Welcome Home

**A/N: Hey there, people! I know you guys probably hated me for killing Ytri off, but don't worry! The worst is over…for now. But anyway, I'm back with another update. It's 12AM exactly as I'm writing this, hahahahaha goodlordIamsosleepy. Enough talk. The story begins NOW!**

Sarila and Ysgrig kept a slow and steady pace back to Riften. Sarila was in a particularly sour mood, and Ysgrig kept a watchful eye over her. He occasionally glanced at his sister as they walked south. The scowl on her face brought a frown to his. "Do you want to talk?" He asked. Sarila sighed heavily and continued trudging forward. "Talking won't help us get to Riften. Ytri told me that I need to get there soon." She mumbled dazedly. Ysgrig raised an eyebrow. " _Ytri_ told you?" He questioned. "That's what I said." Sarila snapped back. Ysgrig raised his hands slightly in surrender and continued walking forward.

The pair came across a cobblestone path. Sarila's eyes suddenly brightened. "A path! We might be close, Ysgrig!" She beamed, immediately observing the path. Ysgrig didn't seem entirely convinced. "How do we know which way to go?" His question had caught Sarila off guard. "Well…we…there's…" She stuttered confusedly.

A grey wolf slowly made its way towards Sarila and Ysgrig. Ysgrig's alert ears heard the trotting beast first, and he pulled his glass sword from its sheath. "Stay alert, I heard something." Ysgrig alerted Sarila, who nodded and palmed her ebony dagger. The wolf emerged from a nearby underbrush and growled at the pair, immediately grabbing their attention. The wolf let out a fierce snarl, followed by an anguished yelp when an arrow entered its right eye. The wolf collapsed to the ground dead, and the twins confusedly searched for its attacker.

"Sarila!" The scratchy voice called.

"Is that…?" Sarila turned around to see a familiar Khajiit in steel plate armor bounding towards her, bow in hand. "Kharjo!" She called, running towards him. Kharjo quickly pulled her in for a brief hug. "We've all been quite worried. Marcurio and I have been looking for you for days, and Lyvette has been having some nightmares as well."

Sarila was once again reminded of Lyvette's special dreams. "I see." Her eyes slightly narrowed as she sighed. Her smile soon returned to her face. "Kharjo, this is my brother, Ysgrig. He's the only other survivor of my family." She grabbed Ysgrig's hand as he walked over toward the two. "This one is most pleased to meet you, Ysgrig." Kharjo smiled and shook Ysgrig's hand. "As am I…Kharjo, wasn't it?" Ysgrig asked. Kharjo nodded. "Come, I am sure you are both tired from your travels. The Bee and Barb is serving Apple Cabbage Soup tonight." Kharjo beckoned the twins to follow him down the path.

After about half an hour, the trio had arrived at Riften, and hurried into the Bee and Barb to avoid the incoming rain. The Bee and Barb was rather quiet, as many folks had gone home, or were at their jobs. Keerava had her usual scowl, wiping down the bar. Her eye wound had healed, Sarila noted. She still felt guilty for harming Keerava to get the gold from her, but she had done what she could to make it up to her. Keerava curiously eyed Ysgrig, as she had never seen him before. Bolli gave a brief greeting to Sarila before focusing his attention on Ysgrig.

"New in town, eh?" Bolli asked. Ysgrig nodded. "Here for the fishing, I'd guess?" "No sir, I'm here to help my sister get settled in. She's come a long way, and needed my help to get home." Ysgrig answered honestly. "Your sister? Who?" "Sarila is my sister." Ysgrig pointed to Sarila, who was currently asking Kharjo a question about Lyvette and Marcurio. Bolli scratched his bearded chin curiously. "On her first day of work at the fishery, she mentioned her family was dead." He informed Ysgrig. "I'm the last survivor. We came across each other by pure chance. When I saw her come back to me alive, it was like something from a dream." Ysgrig explained, a smile forming upon his face.

While Ysgrig and Bolli continued to make friendly chatter, Sarila was wrapping up her conversation with Kharjo when she heard a shrill squeal. Before she knew it, Sarila was on the ground, Lyvette crushing her in a hug. Sarila grunted when her wounded leg hit the floor. She was slowly healing, but still had some complications. "Sarila! Miss Sarila! You're okay! I'm so happy, I knew you'd come, I just knew it!" Lyvette squealed, tightening her grip on Sarila's body.

Sarila, despite having the air knocked from her lungs, wrapped her arms around Lyvette's tiny body and embraced her as well. "Thank the Gods you're alright, Lyvette." She breathed in relief. "Mister Marky help saved me! He's a hero, just like you!" Lyvette beamed. Sarila amusedly raised an eyebrow. "Mister Marky?" "It's what she calls me now." Sarila lifted her head and looked to see Marcurio casually leaning his back against the inn wall.

Lyvette got off Sarila, who stood up. "I can't thank you enough for saving Lyvette, Marcurio. That little girl means the world to me." Sarila thanked, her glistening, violet eyes appearing to have smiles of their own. Marcurio gave his trademark smirk. "Once again, the master of arcane arts has prevailed, and is deemed victorious!" He proudly raised his fist in the air. Sarila rolled her eyes. "Well, you certainly haven't changed a bit, you cocky wizard, you." She laughed, Marcurio chuckling as well.

"But I'm serious, thank you ever so much for saving Lyvette. I don't know what I would have done if I lost her." Sarila continued, zoning out as she watched Lyvette prance around the inn. The ebony-haired girl giggled as she swooped around the inn before tripping over an empty wine bottle. Lyvette landed face-first on the ground, stood back up, and giggled before returning to her fun and games. "Well, that's what you're paying me for, remember?" Marcurio's words brought Sarila's mind back to the conversation. "Admit it; you'd never survive without a master of magic at your side." He boasted with a grin.

Marcurio's grin soon turned to a frown, much to Sarila's confusion. "What's the matter?" She asked, surprised. Marcurio's mood had turned from playful and light to dark and doubtful in a flash. "I don't like the way that red-haired fellow is looking at you. Seems suspicious." Marcurio muttered under his breath to Sarila. Sarila was confused. She searched the inn for any suspicious red-haired people, only to find Ysgrig, who was still talking to Bolli. Ysgrig soon caught Sarila's eye and waved merrily to her. Sarila smiled and waved back. Marcurio was startled by this interaction. "You _know_ him?" He asked, appalled. "Of course I know him. He's my brother, Ysgrig." Sarila replied.

Marcurio mentally slapped himself across the face. He certainly didn't see that one coming. "Oh…your…your brother…" He awkwardly trailed off, scratching the back of his neck. His brown eyes suddenly widened. "Wait, your _brother?!_ I thought you said your family was dead." Sarila shook her head. "I thought they were, too. Turns out, Ysgrig got out alive. We both thought we were the last survivors of our family until, by Stendarr's blessing, the people who rescued me brought me to him."

Marcurio gave a sheepish smile as Sarila told the story of how she and Ysgrig had completed the job in Whiterun together. "Did you find your friend as well?" Marcurio asked, still smiling. Sarila's smile turned into a sour frown upon hearing his words. _Damn it!_ Marcurio mentally scolded himself. One simple question had caused her good mood to crash and burn in a horrible wreck. "I…that's a no, then?" Sarila shook her head. "We found her. Dead." She bluntly answered, refusing to meet his gaze as she brushed her hands over Ytri's amulet around her neck.

Marcurio exhaled sharply, putting a hand to his forehead. _Things certainly went bad, and fast._ "Listen…I shouldn't have asked. I'm sorry, Sarila." He apologized, Sarila still looking down at her feet as if they were the most interesting things in the world. Marcurio sighed again and brought a hand down to her chin, bringing her face upwards to look at him. "Look, I know I'm not Ytri, but I'll stick with you, alright? Look me in the eyes and listen. I promise that I'll do as best I can. I know I can't replace her, but I can at least make this promise." Marcurio pledged, Sarila looking intently into his reassuring eyes.

 _His eyes…have they always been that shade of brown?_

"I…thank you, Marcurio. That's very kind of you." Sarila managed to crack a small smile, earning a wide grin from Marcurio. "Now, go catch up with your little girl. She's missed you in the time you've been gone. I saw her go upstairs, and I think she'll be happy to spend more time with you." Sarila nodded and walked upstairs.

Lyvette was talking gibberish to her doll on the small bed in the room. She looked up and her blue eyes brightened when Sarila entered their room. "Hi, Sarila!" Lyvette excitedly greeted. "Hello, Lyvette! What are you doing?" Sarila asked. "I'm just talking to Valelia. She's such a good friend." Sarila opened her mouth to speak again when Lyvette's simple answer rewound itself over and over in her head. "Come again?" Sarila requested. "Valelia and I are talking. We're having a lot of fun."

 _Valelia._ Sarila immediately realized Lyvette had named her doll the exact same name as the red-haired woman she'd met in the Bannered Mare, the exact same woman who had escaped Helgen. "Valelia, huh? That's quite a lovely name, Lyvette. Where did you get it?" Sarila asked, hoping to receive information from Lyvette involving her dreams. "It was from a dream. It was a really nice red-haired girl's name. Oh, oh! She was in another dream, the one where…the one where the dragon burned down that place…that…" "Helgen?" "…Helgen, yeah!" Lyvette concluded.

Sarila's suspicions were confirmed. Lyvette had some kind of power that alluded the future in her dreams. "What did she do in your dream?" Sarila asked. "Well, she went into this really, _really_ creepy place. It had dead people in it, but they weren't dead. They came out of coffins and tried to hurt her, but she beat the beasties with her sword. She's so cool!" Lyvette gushed. "Oh, and _then_ she went into a big hall and found a really, really tough looking dead man. He shouted things at her like the dragon did, but she got him, too. She took this enormous rock thing from him and brought it to a man in robes." She continued, talking as if Valelia were her biggest idol. "Did anything else happen?" Sarila asked. Lyvette shook her head. "No, Kharjo called me for breakfast and woke me up."

"I'm so glad you're home, though, Sarila! We're gonna have so much fun!" Lyvette chirped. "We're gonna have more fun than anyone else in the whole wide world!" She continued, lifting her arms and spreading them out wide. She suddenly lost her balance and tumbled off the bed. Sarila looked over the bed to see if Lyvette was okay. Lyvette giggled at her own clumsiness, drawing a few giggles from Sarila as well. "Oh, Lyvette! I swear, one day your constant falling will be the death of you!" Sarila continued to laugh with Lyvette as she got off the ground.


	33. The Search

"I trust you have good news for me."

The words that left Maven Black-Briar's lips sent an unpleasant chill down Sarila's spine.

Sarila cleared her through and straightened her posture, the candles of the inn flickering eerily. A dark shadow was cast upon Maven's face, though it did little to hide her scowl. "Well…the job is finished. Here's the information you requested, Lady Black-Briar." Sarila spoke with a slight curtsy, handing the promissory note she had retrieved to the frowning matriarch. "This doesn't tell me much." Sarila winced at the woman's words. "The only thing that could identify Sabjorn's partner is this odd little symbol." Maven explained, her bony finger pointing to the symbol that Sarila had come to despise. "Yes. I've seen that symbol before." Sarila quietly mumbled, averting her violet eyes from the red-cloaked Black-Briar.

Maven searched Sarila's eyes for guilt, fear, anything that could give away an involvement with the symbol, but found nothing. "Well," Maven's voice eased slightly, calming Sarila's nerves. _Maybe she isn't as bad as I thought._ "Whoever this mysterious marking represents, they'll regret starting a war with me." _And…there's the threat. I should've expected Lady Maven wouldn't change so easily._

"You should bring this information to the Thieves' Guild immediately." Maven firmly instructed Sarila, all authority having returned to her voice. Sarila nodded, avoiding Maven's gaze, and she began to walk to the stairs. "Ah, ah, ah." Sarila lifted her head up and turned back to face Maven. "There's also the matter of your payment. I believe you'll find this more than adequate for your services." Maven handed Sarila a steel sword, its blade glowing with some kind of magic. Sarila gazed in the finely crafted weapon in awe. She nodded, uttered a quiet 'Thank you', and walked to her room to place the sword on her nightstand, eager to return to Brynjolf and share the news.

Sarila hopped down the ladder to the Thieves' Guild, landing with a muffled thud. Her eyes scanned the room until she noticed the unmistakable red hair of Brynjolf over by the table. The only sound in the cistern was the repetitive TWANG! of Niruin's bowstring as he endlessly shot arrows into a target that looked as if it had seen better days. Sarila scurried over to the auburn-haired man, who acknowledged her arrival with a curt nod and a smile.

"Word on the street is that poor Sabjorn's found himself in Whiterun's prison. How unfortunate for him." Brynjolf's fake sympathetic tone forced Sarila's lips to quiver as she held back a smile. "Yet very fortunate for Lady Maven." Sarila added, failing to keep her smile hidden. Brynjolf nodded. "Exactly. Now you're beginning to see how our little system works." He praised to Sarila, who was beaming with pride. "Maven sent word that you discovered something else while you were out there. Something important to the guild?" In the blink of an eye, Sarila's smile had vanished. She sullenly nodded. "The same damned symbol from Goldenglow was involved." She muttered, narrowing her eyes and looking away. 

Brynjolf let out a heavy sigh. "Then this is beyond coincidence. First Aringoth, and now Sabjorn. Someone's trying to take us down by driving a wedge between Maven and the guild." Brynjolf coolly hypothesized. Sarila felt her heart break at the thief's words. Originally, she had joined the guild for coin; a simple source of income to pay for a room at the inn and food for her and Lyvette. That much was true. Now, she felt like the guild was family. It was a sick, twisted family who robbed people blind, albeit it was still a family, and she couldn't just abandon them. Not after what she had done, not after learning so much information that could help the guild, and not after she'd occasionally earn a compliment whenever she casually passed Rune or Sapphire, or even Cynric in the cistern. Finally, the golden haired woman spoke up. "Is there anything we can do?" As usual, Brynjolf was ready with an answer. "Mercer thinks he knows a way to identify this new thorn in our side. He wants to meet with you right away." Sarila nodded. Brynjolf's usually calm face turned slightly panicked. "And if I were you, I'd hurry; I've never seen him this angry before."

Brynjolf's answer shocked Sarila. Mercer was known as their ill-tempered, moody leader; it was his trademark of sorts. He was always in a foul mood, giving sour frowns and glares to anyone who even walked by. Sarila had noted that you could knock something over, and he would be calm as a flat sea, but Gods forbid you look him in the eye for a full second. "Just a moment. You're saying he's actually _angrier_ than he normally is?" Sarila asked.

Brynjolf nodded. "Aye. Started ranting earlier, yelled at poor Thrynn who was minding his own business. 'If you don't wipe that frown off your face, I'll give you something to frown about!' He said." Brynjolf recanted. Sarila scoffed. "As if. The only thing Mercer's ever given anyone is a headache." Brynjolf raised an eyebrow, amused at the woman's bold statement. He chuckled and looked Sarila in the eyes. "Aye, lass. Don't let him catch you saying that, though." He gave a conspirational wink to the smiling Sarila.

Sarila nodded and trotted over to Mercer's desk. She was greeted with a glare from the Guild master himself. _Ah, Mercer Frey. What an unpleasant surprise._ The venomous words replayed in her head, and she forced a fake smile. "How can I assist you, sir?" Mercer, as usual, got right down to business. "I've consulted my contacts regarding the information you recovered from Goldenglow Estate, but no one can identify that symbol." Sarila nodded. "I found the same marking at Honningbrew Meadery." She answered briefly, but kept her ears alert for Mercer's next words. "It would seem our adversary is attempting to take us apart indirectly by angering Maven Black-Briar. Very clever." His voice grew deeper as he glared down at his book so hard that he could burn a hole in the pages.

Sarila was confused. _They're the enemy, and he's praising them?_ "You…you admire them, sir?" Sarila asked, still flashing her fake smile. Mercer nodded and sighed quietly before parting his lips to speak. "They're well-funded and they've been able to avoid identification for years." _They've been tearing the guild apart for years? Why has no one mentioned this?_ "I'm impressed it even reached this point." Mercer spat. Just as Sarila was beginning to doubt him, he spoke again. "Just don't mistake my admiration for complacency; our nemesis is going to pay dearly." His voice deepened even more at his last two words, and Sarila's lips quivered again, the golden-haired woman praying to the Divines that he didn't see her fear. Thankfully, he didn't, and continued to thumb aimlessly through the yellow book before him on the oak desk. "How can we make them pay?" Sarila inquired.

"Even after all their posturing and planning, they've made a mistake." Mercer's lips curved upwards into a smile, surprising Sarila. She had _never_ seen this dark, menacing man crack a grin, let alone smile. Like Keerava, he was quite grumpy, though Keerava had a visible soft side that occasionally prevailed and liberated her from her sour mood. "The parchment you recovered mentions a "Gajul-Lei." According to my sources, that's an old alias used by one of our contacts." Mercer's rough voice brought Sarila back out of her thoughts and into reality. "His real name is Gulum-Ei. Slimy bastard…" Mercer muttered, clenching his fist. Sarila shivered. She began to feel pity towards the unlucky fellow who had been involved in the scandal, for he would soon incur the wrath of Mercer Frey.

Sarila ignored the tiny beads of sweat that made their homes upon her forehead. "Where do I begin?" Mercer's eyes swept over Sarila facial expressions, postures, and arm placement before answering the suspense-building question. "Gulum-Ei is our inside man at the East Empire Company in Solitude. I'm betting he acted as a go-between for the sale of Goldenglow Estate and that he can finger our buyer. Get out there, shake him down and see what you come up with. Talk to Brynjolf before you leave if you have any questions." Sarila nodded and turned to leave when Mercer called from behind her. "And your fake smile was rather convincing. It needs work, but still, it was rather convincing." Mercer commented, half-impressed. Sarila blushed at his words of having caught her fake smile.

Sarila repeated Mercer's instructions in her head, and soon felt her insides go numb. Mercer was asking her to have a physical confrontation with Gulum-Ei. She knew not who this man was, but immediately didn't like the sound of him. The thought of physical altercations raced through her mind, and suddenly, more thoughts evolved. _What if I have to hurt him? What if he hurts me?_ Sarila gulped, the beads of sweat dripping from her face like a waterfall. _What if…what if I have to KILL someone this time?_ Sarila began to hyperventilate, but her breaths eased when she remembered what Mercer had previously told her.

" _Talk to Brynjolf before you leave if you have any questions."_

Sarila scanned over the room, only this time, her eyes were wild and panicked. Brynjolf was still by the table, and Sarila dashed over to him. Brynjolf's emerald eyes appeared startled before his natural, blasé expression returned. "Calm down, lass. You look like you've seen a ghost." Brynjolf appeased, studying his protégé's expressions. "Mercer wants me to confront someone." Sarila squeaked. Brynjolf raised an eyebrow. "I don't follow." He calmly stated. "Confront, as in, physically confront someone." Sarila clarified. "Aye. What did you need to know?" Brynjolf asked, finally understanding. "I don't have to…kill…do I?" She asked, her saddened, violet eyes growing large with worry. Brynjolf almost felt guilty for recruiting the poor girl. She was average height for a Nord, skinny, but certainly not well-built or brave like the stereotypical Nord. "No, lass. You don't have to kill. As far as I'm concerned, you'll be keeping your blade clean for as long as you need to."

Sarila exhaled in relief. Her eyes rapidly darted from left to right to check if anyone was listening. When she realized the coast was clear, she leaned in to whisper to Brynjolf. "Can I tell you something?" She asked. Brynjolf nodded, his eyes gentle. "I've never killed anyone before. Not directly, I mean." She shamefully confessed. Brynjolf nodded in understanding. "I'd figured as much. You don't seem to be the type to kill. There aren't any in the guild as pure as you, lass. Your secret's safe with me." Brynjolf promised. Sarila smiled warmly at Brynjolf. "Thank you." She thanked, her voice no louder than a whisper.

Sarila shielded her eyes from the painfully bright sun. She pressed the button on the coffin, triggering the secret contraption that acted as the Guild's door to close, its low grating sound ringing in her ears. She hurriedly walked to the Bee and Barb, ignoring the shouts of the market vendors who eagerly advertised their products.

"Okay. Get Marcurio, travel to Solitude, and find Gulum-Ei." Sarila instructed herself. She briefly wondered if Ysgrig would care to accompany her on her mission once more. _Maybe he and Marcurio could bond, and Marcurio would lose any misguided prejudice for him._

Sarila's heartbeat quickened and she sped up when Marcurio's name appeared in her mind, quickly settling her hand on the door and opening it. The chatter of the bar was extremely quiet that particular morning, and all that could be heard was the soft chatter of Kharjo and Lyvette. Ysgrig had been out cold the entire morning, and Sarila mentally told herself to check on him when he awoke and ask if he wanted to join her. Sarila approached the bench that her mage-friend usually perched himself on, and sure enough, there he was.

Marcurio's brown eyes fixated themselves on Sarila's approaching figure. "Ready to head out on a _real_ mission now?" He smirked. Sarila shyly nodded, closely observing the features of Marcurio's suddenly handsome face. Marcurio amusedly watched Sarila run her eyes up and down his body and waved his hand to get her attention, startling the woman. He was proud to have captured the interest of such a lovely young woman, though he wanted to head out and help her. "Ready to get going, or are you just going to stare at me all day?" Marcurio slyly grinned, standing up. Sarila nodded once more, biting her lip as she walked upstairs to check on Ysgrig. _And the search begins._

There was no denying it now.

She was embarrassed, as her feelings made her seem childish, but she immensely enjoyed the warmth it brought her heart.

She had become a clone of Chalvia.

Sarila was in love.


	34. A Watchful Eye

Sarila, Marcurio, and Ysgrig walked silently through the forests of Skyrim. Sarila would occasionally glance over at Marcurio, whose stride of pride never faltered. She'd avert her eyes quickly if she suspected he was looking in her general direction. She covered her right eye with her golden locks and looked through them at Marcurio. She smiled when she realized her mechanism of not being caught was working. "Sarila, you should get your hair out of your face. You're going to need to use your other eye in case something approaches from that direction." Ysgrig ordered.

Sarila frowned. _Well, there goes that plan._ She brushed her hair from her face and continued walking. She felt unusually sweaty when she was around Marcurio. Her leather guild armor became more and more soaked as she walked, her hair sopping wet as well. She suddenly came to realize that she wasn't sweating, and that it was raining. Ysgrig gave a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his red hair. "Damn rain. We're going to need to head back to the Home and take shelter until it clears up. It looks as if there's a storm coming."

Sarila nodded and turned to the confused Marcurio. "The 'Home'? What's this 'Home'?" Marcurio asked Sarila in a whisper. "The Home is where he and his friends-or, I should really say _family—_ live." She answered. Ysgrig began to walk towards the direction of where the Home was. "Everyone there is extremely nice. Caehir, Reea'th and Qattindra are great hunters, Sa'etha is incredible at making potions and healing wounds, Mattha is a kindhearted bookworm, and Chalvia is a potential competition for the Gourmet himself." Sarila smiled as she described her new friends.

Her mind suddenly came to rest on Omir, the strange, enigmatic Khajiit blacksmith. "And then…then there's Omir." She added. Marcurio raised an eyebrow at her uncertain description of Omir. "Did he do something to you?" Marcurio asked, the muscles in his hand slightly tensing up at the thought of someone causing harm to such a delicate woman. Sarila laughed and shook her head. "No, no. Omir is…well, I don't really know. Omir is a mystery. He's incredibly wise, I've figured that much out. He seems to identify feelings no one else can." Sarila continued. Marcurio's curiosity was piqued at such a character. The way Sarila spoke of him seemed as if Omir were her idol…or her lover.

Marcurio suddenly felt a stinging bolt of anger jolt his body. Was it jealousy? Marcurio couldn't determine what his feelings were, and he kept his natural smile on as Sarila talked. "One thing that's extremely notable about Omir is that he's a blacksmith, but he's not an Orc. He's a Khajiit." Sarila added. Marcurio decided to listen in on Sarila's descriptions and determine if he were her lover or not.

"Where do you think he learned blacksmithing?" Marcurio asked. In reality, he was quite puzzled. The thought of a Khajiit blacksmith was almost laughable, but Sarila's expressions had truth to them. Sarila only shrugged. "As far as I can tell, no one in the Home knows. Omir is, like I said earlier, a mystery."

"Enough gossiping, you two. We're getting closer." Ysgrig amusedly called to Sarila and Marcurio, who were falling behind immensely. "Oh!" Sarila exclaimed, dashing to catch up with her brother, Marcurio in hot pursuit.

A good fifteen minutes later, the trio entered the Home. They shook off the residue of raindrops that had dotted their armor, faces, and hair. "Ack!" Someone shouted, and they stopped shaking. Sarila looked over to find Mattha, soaked with residual raindrops, trying to wipe the rain off. "Sorry, Mattha. We didn't see you there." Ysgrig apologized, trying to hide a smile as Mattha irately squeezed water from her sleeves. "I was going outside to check the weather, but-ah, I guess that answers that question." She huffed. Her smile returned to her face a moment later. "Back so soon? How did things go?" She asked politely before turning her gaze to Marcurio. "And who's this?"

Sarila spoke up. "Mattha, meet Marcurio, my mercenary. Marcurio, this is Mattha." Mattha smiled warmly at Marcurio and offered him her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Mar-" "Greetings! I am Marcurio, master of the arcane arts, trusty traveler, and defender of Sarila." Marcurio proudly introduced, grasping Mattha's hand firmly and shaking it. Mattha was surprised at Marcurio's confidence. Sarila smirked in amusement and leaned in to whisper to Mattha. "He's a cocky one." "Oh, I'll say." Mattha quietly laughed.

When Marcurio had finished rattling Mattha's insides with his powerful handshake, Mattha turned to Ysgrig. "Ysgrig, Chalvia mentioned that she wanted to talk to you." That caught Sarila off guard. A sly smile played upon her lips. Perhaps, she thought, Chalvia was finally confessing. _Then again, it's probably something entirely different. She might want to give him another potion. Maybe with another flower, too._

Sarila's sheer amusement was clearly visible on her face. Mattha gave Sarila a strange look. "Well, someone's certainly happy." She acknowledged before turning to face Ysgrig once more. "I'll talk with Chalvia as soon as possible. Where is she?" Ysgrig asked, shrugging off his soaked backpack before removing his boots, which were filled with rainwater. "She's bound to be in the kitchen. She wanted to sort the spices earlier, but if she's not there, she's got to be in her room." Mattha informed Ysgrig, who nodded in appreciation. "Thank you, Mattha. I'll go talk to her as soon as possible." Ysgrig immediately headed over to his room, already peeling off his soaked robes.

"Sarila, Marcurio, would you care for something to eat?" Mattha kindly asked. "No thank you." Sarila replied. Mattha turned to Marcurio, who shook his head. "Well, it's getting quite late. I think I'll be heading to bed now. Goodnight." Mattha strolled through the hallways back to her room. Sarila yawned at the mention of sleep. "Tired?" Marcurio asked. Sarila scoffed. "What gave it away?" She sarcastically asked. Marcurio held his hands up in surrender. "Well, you just snapped at me, so that's a pretty good indicator." His usual smirk returned to his face. "I'm going to bed. You can have the bed across from mine." Sarila kept a brisk pace as she walked away from Marcurio.

When she got to her room, she scraped her sopping wet armor off and placed it on the ground. She dug through the small dresser by her bed and pulled out a light blue nightgown, sliding it over her small form. She climbed into bed and sighed, the warmth of the velvety covers caressing her body. She closed her eyes lightly and clutched the amulet that had once belonged to Ytri. She ran her fingers over the grooves of the letters that spelled her deceased friend's name, and tightened the necklace around her. She was determined to wear it for the rest of her life, however long that may be.

Sarila was slightly startled when the door to her room opened. She ever so slightly opened one eye and made out Marcurio's figure. Marcurio, not wanting to wake the seemingly sleeping Sarila, gently closed the door. He settled his hands on his hips and raised slowly them, pulling something upwards. Sarila immediately felt heat rise to her cheeks. _He's undressing._ Sarila kept her eye slightly open as Marcurio disrobed himself, his perfectly toned chest emitting its own radiance. Sarila felt her cheeks grow even hotter. Marcurio was undressing, and she was _watching._ Sarila felt a rush of adrenaline course through her veins. She was _watching_ him undress, and while he thought she was asleep, she was wide awake, and wasn't even getting caught.

Sarila's rush of energy soon subsided when Marcurio put on a light tunic and climbed into the bed across from her. Marcurio mumbled something inaudible, and soon enough, his gentle, even breathing was the only sound in the otherwise silent room. Sarila quietly sighed and pictured his disrobed form in her head over and over until sleep overcame her.


	35. Only Time Will Tell

**A/N: Hey hey, jive turkeys! Probably didn't expect me to post again this weekend, but here I am! You probably noticed some typos in my last chapter, but they should be fixed. Could you tell I was tired? It was 2:30 AM as I was writing that chapter…along with many others. I get my inspiration at night when I have more time to think. Sometimes, I-oh, let's just skip this pointless chatter and jump into the story, shall we?**

Sarila and Marcurio were slightly chattier than usual. Ysgrig silently followed behind, his curious green eyes taking in the natural beauty of Skyrim's forests. The rain had left quite a bit of mud, much to Sarila's dismay, though Marcurio and Ysgrig did not seem to mind. "How about you, Ysgrig? What do you think?" Sarila suddenly asked, pulling Ysgrig out of his concentration. "Think? What do I think about what?" Ysgrig confusedly questioned. Sarila rolled her eyes. "Which do you think would win in a fight, a wolf-sized bear, or a bear-sized wolf?" She repeated her question, a smile playing across her lips. "Marcurio here thinks a wolf-sized bear would win. Sounds like foolishness to me." Sarila teased, playfully smacking Marcurio on the arm, causing the Imperial to glare at her before returning to face forward.

Ysgrig thought for a moment. "Sorry, sis. I'd have to side with Marcurio on this one. A wolf-sized bear would still have the same agility and strength of a regular bear, and the same would go for a bear-sized wolf. They'd just be different sizes." Ysgrig explained with a sympathetic shrug. "I can't say I agree with your decision, but I won't argue; this is the most you've talked all morning. Is there something wrong?" Sarila asked, briefly looking at her brother over her shoulder. "Yeah, what's gotten into you? Yesterday, you were a good 100 feet away from us, and now you're falling behind." Marcurio added, kicking a stone out of his way as he walked.

Ysgrig merely shrugged and looked forward with a blank look upon his face. "Just tired, is all. Nothing, really." He lied, thinking back to his conversation with Chalvia. Sarila frowned and stopped walking, turning to face Ysgrig once more. "Then we should conserve our energy. Let's head over to Whiterun and rent the carriage at the stables. Hopefully one of its roads leads to Solitude, and we can go step-by-step." Sarila suggested. "She's got a point. We're going to need all the energy we can get if this Golem-Lie fellow is as tough as Sarila thinks he is." Marcurio agreed. "It's _Gulum-Ei,_ Marcurio. And hopefully we won't need to rough him up too much. I'd prefer to keep the blood off my hands."

The sun was high above the horizon, its rays warming the cold lands of Skyrim. The plains of Whiterun glowed golden as the sun shined down upon them, the blades of grass swaying violently in the unusually powerful breeze. Sarila, Marcurio, and Ysgrig had reached the stables. A horse and cart waited patiently before the stables, a Nord man dressed in a green tunic sitting on the front of the stagecoach, light-beige reins in his muscled hands. The man looked down at the trio who approached him. Sarila was the first to speak.

"Good afternoon, sir. My friends and I would like a ride to Solitude, please." Sarila greeted. The driver nodded. "Twenty gold, please, miss." Sarila fished around in the pockets of her leather guild armor until she counted twenty gleaming Septims. She handed them to the driver who quickly pocketed the money. He gestured behind him. "Climb in back and we'll be off."

Marcurio hopped up into the carriage first, Ysgrig following soon after. Ysgrig held out his hand and hoisted his sister up into the carriage. Ysgrig nodded to the stagecoach driver, and slowly, the carriage began to move, the horse's hoof beats rhythmically clicking on the cobblestone pavement. A low, booming sound echoed through the air. "What was that?" Marcurio suddenly asked, looking around. The carriage driver merely shrugged. "I could have sworn I heard that sound before. Haven't I, Sarila?" Ysgrig asked Sarila, who stared blankly ahead, her violet eyes glazing over. "Sarila?"

Marcurio turned his head to look at Sarila, who appeared to be looking out towards the open sky. "Sarila? What are you looking at?" Marcurio asked, waving his hand in front of the unmoving Sarila's face, to no avail. "Sarila…?" Marcurio followed the woman's line of sight.

There, in the distance by the Western Watchtower of Whiterun, a brown-scaled, yellow-eyed dragon with blood staining its mouth circled the watchtower, endlessly showering flames upon it.

"Oh." Marcurio gulped. " _That's_ what you're looking at." He weakly stated, exchanging frightened glances with Ysgrig and the carriage driver.

The dragon let out a fierce cry and it flew around the area. It swooped down over the stables, raining fiery breath upon the nearby grass. The carriage horse, spooked by this unnatural incident, gave a fearful whinny before trotting off the cobblestone path and into the plains of where the watchtower stood, burning and broken. Sarila was nearly thrown out of the carriage when it jolted unsteadily, Marcurio quickly grasping onto her hand before she slipped out. Sarila clung to Marcurio's left hand, and her own was quickly grasped by Ysgrig, who held onto the railing of the carriage for dear life as the horse endlessly swayed the carriage, ignoring the carriage driver's pulls on the reins and audible protests.

Sarila took in the sight before her, wailing as the carriage shuddered and shook her to the core. The watchtower was in ruins, flames surrounding the flora, bricks strewn across the ground. "Stop that horse!" She heard someone shout. The horse gave another whinny of fright before slowing down and stopped altogether. "Easy, there, old girl. Easy. You're alright." A familiar accented voice crooned.

Sarila let go of Marcurio's hand and peeked over the front of the carriage. Before her, Valelia Sharp-Sun stroked the horse's mane in a gentle and motherly manner. "Valie!" Sarila gasped in surprise. Valie looked over the horse's head and smiled at Sarila. "Looks like fate chose our paths to meet again." Valelia grinned. Her grin suddenly disappeared as another low growl shook the earth, prompting her to draw her steel sword. "Sarila, you and your friends need to hide." "But-" "GO!" Valie commanded with desperation in her voice, the guards shouting orders to each other as the dragon appeared once more.

Sarila looked at Valie with sad eyes, praying to the Divines that she wouldn't lose another friend so soon. She took Ysgrig's hand and dashed into the tower. Marcurio hopped out of the carriage and debated on whether he should enter the tower as well. He sighed and stood his ground as the dragon approached. Sarila's blood went cold. "Marcurio! What are you doing, you idiot?! Get to the tower!" She shouted as Marcurio's palms grew bright with sparks. He zapped the dragon's scaly face with whips of lightning, earning guttural roars of anger from the spiked beast. The guards endlessly pierced the dragon's scales with countless steel arrows.

The creature, out of frustration, decided to land and take his first meal. He snarled and lunged his head forward, closing his jaws around a Whiterun guard. He tightened his teeth around the poor fellow and swallowed him whole. The guards began to close in on him, Marcurio continuing to blast the beast with fireballs and sparks. Sarila ran up the stairs and gazed down at the battlefield from the top of the tower, Ysgrig not far behind. Ysgrig's auburn hair was matted with sweat, and he exhaled sharply. "When I got out of bed this morning, I never imagined I'd be experiencing a dragon attack up close and personal." He told his sister.

Valelia's bright red hair slowly made its way towards the dragon. Its yellow eyes seemed to fix themselves on her form. Just as Sarila expected the beast to roast her alive in its flaming breaths, Valelia swiftly rolled to the left and barely missed the flames. "Valie!" Sarila exclaimed. Valelia ran up to the dragon's left side and took him by surprise. The dragon turned to attack her once more, though his efforts were in vain, as she had hopped up onto his wing and was on his head in no time. She sunk her sword through his thick skull, the dragon shrieking as he tried to shake her off his head. Valie made seven more clean stabs through his brain before the dragon collapsed, and she hopped onto the ground.

The twins, amazed by what they had just witnessed, dashed down the broken stairs of the watchtower and ran towards the dragon's unmoving body. "Is it…?" Sarila meekly asked Marcurio, who made his way towards them. "It would appear so." Marcurio answered, although he himself was unsure of its state of being. Valelia slowly approached the trio, ignoring the looks of awe and confusion from the guards. Sarila's eyes brightened at Valelia's appearance. "Valie, I've never seen anything like it!" She praised. "Aye, I'm a little amazed myself to tell you the truth."

"What's it doing?" Ysgrig asked as he backed away from the dragon. Slowly, Sarila, Valie, and Marcurio turned around to look at the dragon. Its scales were flying off and disintegrating, flames beginning to consume its body. "Oh, dear." Sarila managed, her eyes wide with fright.

Suddenly, large streams of bright lights flew from the dragon's remains and plunged into Valelia's form. She gasped, her eyes changing to unnatural colors. Valie grasped her chest and dropped to her knees as the unknown forces continued to invade her body. Slowly, they stopped, and Valelia's eyes turned to normal as she stood up.

Guards slowly made their way towards her, bewildered looks on their faces beneath their masks. "You're…you're Dragonborn."

Sarila looked to Ysgrig, who seemed to be staring at Valelia in awe. "Ysgrig, what's a Dragonborn?" She asked. Ysgrig turned to her, the shocked look not leaving his face. "Dragonborn…the Dragonborn was… _is_ …the legendary hero who kills dragons and absorbs their souls. But…" Ysgrig trailed off. "Mattha read something about the previous Dragonborns. She believed there were no more to be found, but now, Valelia is here."

"Do you think Valelia is going to save us all from the dragons?" Sarila asked, also recovering from her initial surprise. Ysgrig shrugged. "Only time will tell."


	36. Your New Friend In The North

"Thanks again for taking us to Solitude, sir. It certainly was a rough day, but you stuck with us." Sarila thanked the carriage driver as she exited the carriage with Marcurio and Ysgrig. He politely smiled and gave a curt nod. "It was no trouble, milady. 'Least now I'll have a story to tell folks who come to rent my carriage." He chuckled, waving goodbye to the trio.

"I'll head up to the gate and ask where the nearest inn is. I'll meet you guys up there in a moment." Marcurio informed the twins, who nodded simultaneously as he scaled the hill to the city. Sarila and Ysgrig soon followed after him. Marcurio, who had just finished conversing with a guard, gave a sheepish grin to Sarila and Ysgrig. "Ysgrig, come here." Marcurio motioned for Ysgrig to come closer. The redhead obliged, and Marcurio leaned in to whisper something to him. Ysgrig's eyes widened, and his facial expression hardened. "I see. Sarila, we need to get to the inn immediately, no dawdling." Sarila was confused, but nodded anyway. Slowly, the door to Solitude opened.

As soon as Sarila entered the city, she fell in love with its exquisite architecture and its natural landscaping. Her curious eyes wandered over to a large crowd of people gathering by a platform. "Keep moving, sis." Ysgrig instructed, grabbing Sarila's hand and pulling her with him. "Why? I want to see what-" "Please, let's just keep moving." He sternly ordered. Sarila felt hurt. She took one glance behind her at the crowd, and was able to make out a large axe, a man in worn robes, and a small square on the ground of the platform.

The realization hit Sarila like a ton of bricks. _They're executing that man._ She felt the unpleasant chills begin to run down her spine as she walked with Marcurio and Ysgrig to the inn. _They're KILLING that man._

Ysgrig closed the door to the inn and exhaled. "Welcome to the Winking Skeever, friends." A man behind the bar greeted warmly. Ysgrig cleared his throat and approached the bar. "Hello, do you happen to be Corpulus Vinius?" Corpulus nodded. "In that case, we'd like to rent a room, please." "Excellent. I have a room available upstairs for only ten Septims." Corpulus offered with a smile. Ysgrig nodded and reached into his pocket, pulling out the sufficient coins to hand to the innkeeper, who gladly took them. "Right this way, please."

Corpulus had shown the trio a decent sized room with a table and several bookshelves. He was promptly thanked for his service, and he returned to his bar. "Uh-oh. Sarila, it looks like we have a problem with sleeping arrangements." Ysgrig told his sister. Sarila and Marcurio looked puzzled until they realized that there was only one bed, and it was double-sized. "You guys can have the bed. I'll take the chair by the table." Marcurio offered.

"Are you sure you're alright with that?" Sarila asked with concern lacing her voice. Marcurio nodded. "I pretty much live on that bench in the Bee and Barb. The first couple nights I spent there, Keerava whacked me on the head with a broom for sleeping on the bench, but after a while, she just got used to it." Marcurio explained to Sarila and Ysgrig, who grinned in amusement.

"You both should rest up. I'll ask Corpulus if there's anyone named Gulum-Ei nearby. I'll call if I need you." Sarila informed Ysgrig and Marcurio as she walked out the door, shutting it quietly behind her. Marcurio made himself comfortable in the chair at the table and began to sip a bottle of Spiced Wine he'd found on the table, while Ysgrig eyed the books in the bookshelves curiously. Things seemed quiet in the room, until Ysgrig decided to break the silence.

"You fancy my sister?"

Marcurio was caught off guard and nearly spit out his wine. He swallowed the swig of wine he had just taken and cleared his throat. "What do you mean?" Marcurio asked with a smug grin on his face. Ysgrig scoffed. "You know exactly what I mean, Imperial." "No, I don't. I know nothing of the sort." Ysgrig gave an irritated sigh. Marcurio was clearly doing this to get a rise out of him. "Do you like my sister?" Marcurio chuckled. "Of course. Your sister has been a good friend to me in the time I've known her." He answered, taking another swig of wine. Ysgrig was about to continue pressing, but let out another irritated sigh before giving up altogether. Marcurio grinned even more when he took notice of this. _Looks like Marcurio's won this round once more. Not only am I a master of the arcane arts, I'm a master of speechcraft, too._

Downstairs, Sarila approached the bar that Corpulus stood behind. He gave a warm smile to her. "How can I help you this evening?" "Would there be anyone named 'Gulum-Ei' around here?" Sarila questioned. Corpulus nodded and pointed over towards the windowsill. "Him. The Argonian in the orange tunic by the window. Bastard's been causing trouble for as long as I can remember." Corpulus murmured. Sarila nodded and thanked Corpulus before strolling over to Gulum-Ei, who sat by the window, drinking a bottle of alto wine.

Gulum-Ei managed to look away from his wine for a full second as he noticed Sarila approach him. He was stunned to see such a gorgeous specimen of woman coming to talk to _him_ of all people. Perhaps, he thought, she was from the Thieves' Guild, here to question him about his 'assistance' with Goldenglow. Gulum-Ei almost snickered to himself before realizing Sarila was staring right at him. He cleared his throat and put his wine bottle on the small, oak table to his right. "So, what do we have here? Hmm. Let me guess. By your scent, I'd say you were from the Guild. But that can't be true, because I told Mercer I wouldn't deal with them anymore." Gulum-Ei snapped, and Sarila slightly backed away in surprise, but otherwise stood her ground.

"Perhaps you've misunderstood me. I'm here about Goldenglow Estate." Sarila reasoned, crossing her arms. Gulum-Ei shook his head and sighed. "I don't deal in land or property. Now, if you're looking for goods, you've come to the right person." He informed her, a hopeful gleam in his eye at the thought of smuggling more merchandise. Sarila was getting slightly frustrated. "No, I think I know exactly what you deal in…Gajul-Lei." A sly smile played across Sarila's lips when she earned a gawk of surprise from Gulum-Ei at the mention of his old alias.

Gulum-Ei immediately got a grip and recomposed himself. "Oh, wait…did you say Goldenglow Estate? My apologies." He gave a sheepish grin and awkwardly chuckled as Sarila narrowed her violet eyes at him. "I'm sorry to say I know very little about that…bee farm, was it?" Sarila's frustration only grew at the Argonian's words. He was continuing to toy with her, to test her gullibility. Sarila was no fool, however, and got straight to business. "You acted as a broker for its new owner." She plainly stated, trying not to clench her fists. "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. I can't be expected to remember every deal I handle." Sarila finally grew desperate. "Please, just identify the buyer and we'll forget what we know." She reasoned. Gulum-Ei scratched his scaly chin for a moment before sighing. "All right. Had I known the deal would bring me this much trouble, I never would have accepted the gold."

Gulum-Ei inhaled deeply before speaking. "As far as Goldenglow Estate goes, I'll tell you what I know. I was approached by a woman who wanted me to act as the broker for something big. She flashed a bag of gold in my face and said all I had to do was pay Aringoth for the estate. I brought him the coin and walked away with her copy of the deed." Gulum-Ei explained. "Did she say why she was doing this?" Sarila inquired, her tone returning to normal. Gulum-Ei shook his head. "Not at all. I tend not to ask too many questions when I'm on the job. I'm sure you understand. However, I did notice she was quite angry and it was being directed at Mercer Frey." Something about Gulum-Ei's descriptions seemed off to Sarila. "That's _it?_ No name or anything?" Sarila questioned. Gulum-Ei was, of course, prepared with an answer. "In this business we rarely deal in names; our identity comes from how much coin we carry." He reasoned.

"Gulum-Ei, I know you're lying to me. I can see it in your eyes and hear it in your voice. Besides, your descriptions sound…well, they sound rehearsed." Sarila bluntly stated. Gulum-Ei would have mustered up more confidence and spewed more lies to Sarila, but he knew there was no getting out of this. He couldn't look into Sarila's eyes; the guilt he felt for lying to her and putting her on the spot brought pain to his heart. Finally, his lips quivered, and he broke down. "It's Karliah! Her name is Karliah."

Sarila felt like there was something she was missing. "Who's Karliah?" She asked, her eyes softening. "Mercer never told you about her?" Gulum-Ei asked, astounded. "Karliah is the thief responsible for murdering the previous Guild Master, Gallus. Now she's after Mercer." He explained. "…So you're helping her?" "Help…? No, no! Look, I didn't even know it was her until after she contacted me. Please, you have to believe me!" Gulum-Ei pleaded, his voice desperate and his eyes wide with fear. Sarila placed a reassuring hand on the Argonian's shoulder, earning a slight shiver from Gulum-Ei. "It's alright, Gulum-Ei. I believe you. All I need to know is where Karliah is now. It'll be alright, Gulum-Ei." Sarila softly reassured him.

Gulum-Ei shuddered at her surprisingly pleasant touch. "I don't know. When I asked her where she was going, she just muttered 'Where the end began'." He mumbled. His eyes suddenly widened and he dug in his pockets, pulling out a slip of paper. "Here, take the Goldenglow Estate Deed as proof. And when you speak to Mercer, tell him I'm worth more to him alive." Gulum-Ei handed Sarila the paper, and she placed it in her pocket. "Oh, and, tell you what, if you need any stolen goods fenced, you bring them to me and I'll pay you good money for them. Consider me your new friend in the north." Gulum-Ei offered with a kind smile.

"Thank you, Gulum-Ei. I'll be sure to put in a good word for you with Mercer. And for the record, I believe you. It's going to be alright." Sarila smiled to her new friend as she walked back up to her room.

"How'd it go?" Marcurio asked, biting into a loaf of bread. "It was surprisingly easy. I just used my gilded tongue and let the lizard do the rest." Sarila replied, sitting in the chair across from Marcurio. "What're we going to do now?" Sarila thought for a moment. "We could probably spend a few days here. Solitude is a very beautiful city, and Ytri never brought me here before in our travels. I'm thinking we could maybe take a look around, go sightseeing, perhaps buy some spiced wine. Our possibilities are nearly endless." Sarila explained with a smile. "All that sounds nice and all, but for now, I'm going to get some sleep. I hardly slept at all last night, and the little 'dragon incident' earlier didn't really help." Ysgrig announced, climbing into the bed. "Oh, well, goodnight, Ysgrig." Sarila told her brother, who was already asleep by the time she'd finished her sentence.

"What about you?" Marcurio suddenly asked. "What about me?" "What are you going to do?" Sarila ran a hand through her hair and pursed her lips. "I'm going to go get some wine. I need a drink." She mumbled, already making her way down the stairs. Marcurio chuckled. "What is it with the Nords and their drinks?"


	37. I'm Not Jealous

Sarila, Marcurio, and Ysgrig stayed in Solitude for more than just a few days in Solitude; they had spent two weeks there. The first three days were for sightseeing. Sarila then decided that Solitude was a prime target for larceny. She practiced picking locks and sneaking around in houses, quickly and quietly nabbing anything of value, which she brought to Gulum-Ei. Gulum-Ei was surprised at how quickly this new thief was learning. By her scent, she had not been around the guild long, but they were already starting to influence her.

Sarila had broken into nearly every home in Solitude. She hid her childish grin when she overheard several people in the market complaining about how they had 'misplaced' their satchels of gold and jewels. Sarila knew that if she hit a single house more than twice, suspicion would be raised. And of course, who else would be to blame except the newcomers?

Sarila knew that she wasn't the only troublemaker in town. Jaree-Ra and Deeja, the Argonian siblings, seemed like shady characters. Jaree-Ra had even hissed beneath his breath and beckoned her to come to him for the "deal of a lifetime", as he put it. Gulum-Ei wasn't the most popular in town either, due to his lifestyle of smuggling. There was also Noster Eagle-Eye, who liked to spend his days towards the front of the city. Noster hadn't seemed like a bad man to Sarila, just overly reliant on others. Several times as she neared the Bards College, she had seen a strange, elderly Bosmer man wandering around, rambling about how his master had abandoned him. He had cast several distasteful glares towards Sarila, as if he knew what she were doing, but otherwise said nothing. Sarila found it best not to stare at the strange fellow.

On the fourteenth day in Solitude, Sarila was selling a beautiful golden necklace to Gulum-Ei when the Argonian decided to make a business proposition.

"Sarila, if you have a moment, I have a deal I'd like to make with you." Gulum-Ei stated, prompting Sarila to look up at him. "There's…there's something one of my clients has been looking for, and they've been asking for quite a while." The Argonian began. "What are they looking for?" Sarila asked. "Firebrand Wine. The buyer has been looking for a case of Firebrand Wine. There just so happens to be a single case in the Blue Palace. Bring it to me, and I'll have some things for you in return."

Sarila walked out of the inn, pondering her next move. Gulum-Ei had asked her to enter the Blue Palace, an actual _palace,_ where a _jarl_ lived. Sarila felt her stomach fill with butterflies of anxiety and excitement at the thought of breaking into a palace.

Her plan was clear; she needed a disguise of some kind to safely traverse the palace. She could easily procure a disguise; she was a thief. Sarila looked around the marketplace at everyone's clothes. Tunics, dresses, robes, nothing out of the ordinary. Sarila knew that if she marched into the palace wearing any of those dull outfits, the guards would immediately recognize her as a commoner, and shoo her away. Entering the palace in her guild armor was out of the question; she'd be tossed into Castle Dour dungeon the moment someone realized she was from the guild.

Sarila was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't even realize the Solitude guard walking right by her. She ran her eyes up and down the fellow's red and silver armor and formulated an idea. _I could disguise myself as a guard and enter the palace that way._ Sarila mentally praised herself; her plan was pure genius. She could put some cloth in the armor to bulk herself up to look like a man, and the helmet would hide her face and hair.

The guard had noticed Sarila staring at him. "Keeping well, citizen?" He asked with concern. Sarila was brought out of her thoughts and gave a warm smile to the guard. "Oh, yes. I was just in a daydream. Certainly a lovely day, isn't it?" She softly replied with her innocent voice. The guard nodded and continued to patrol the area.

Sarila snuck to Castle Dour. Several guards were seen circling a table with a political map on it. Sarila decided to sneak downstairs to the guard barracks and search for some guard armor there. She crossed her fingers in hopes that there would be no guards in the barracks. Stendarr smiled upon her, and there were no guards. Sarila snuck towards the back of the room towards the stacks of crates. She quietly removed the lid on one of them and began rooting around.

Several crates were searched before a full set of guard armor, including a shield, was found. Sarila quickly placed the armor in her backpack and rushed out of Castle Dour.

Sarila entered the Winking Skeever and ran down to the cellar. She put her guard armor on over her clothes, carefully tucking Ytri's amulet of Talos under the cuirass. She looked around until she found cloth, which she stuffed into the armor to bulk herself up. She looped her arm through the shield. "All I need is a sword…" She mumbled to herself under her breath.

Thankfully, Beirand, Solitude's blacksmith, had forged plenty of swords. Sarila immediately approached him when she realized this. Beirand was hammering away at a piece of raw iron. He looked up when he saw Sarila approaching. "Evening, sir. Looking for a new weapon?" Beirand asked. Sarila nodded. "Preferably a steel sword, please. My old one finally bit the dust yesterday in training." She explained, deepening her voice. "That'll be 67 Septims, please." Sarila reached into her backpack and pulled out the gold, handing it to Beirand. The blacksmith put his hammer down and took a gleaming steel sword off the nearby table. "Here you go, sir. Need a sheath to carry it in?" He asked. Sarila nodded once more.

In no time, Sarila was a fully suited up as a guard, complete with a sword and shield. She hoped she wouldn't need to use the sword for any reason, as she wasn't used to wielding something so heavy in combat. She strolled up the path and to the Blue Palace. The guard out front paid no mind to Sarila, and continued to stand obediently at his post. Sarila entered the Blue Palace, its metal doors quietly thudding as they shut behind her.

Sarila had no time to admire how gorgeous the palace looked. She was on a mission. She pretended to patrol the palace. She searched each hall until she reached the hall before the kitchen. There, on a table, was the case of Firebrand Wine. She licked her lips in concentration and checked to see if anyone was nearby. She inhaled deeply and quickly snatched the case, placing it in her backpack. She quickly marched through the halls when she was stopped by a brown-haired man in Solitude armor. "Evening, soldier. You're needed at the Lady Elisif's side." The fellow commanded sternly.

Sarila took one look at the man and realized he was Captain Aldis, captain of the guards in Solitude. "Right away, sir." Sarila replied with her artificially deepened voice. Aldis raised an eyebrow. "Interesting. Not many of you soldiers obey without protest." Aldis commented, intrigued by this strangely obedient guard. Sarila thought up an answer immediately after his statement. "A good guard never denies his superior."

Captain Aldis broke out into a smile. "You're not bad, soldier. What's your name?" He asked. Sarila panicked and searched her mind for a fake name. The only male name that came to mind was her father's. "Battori, sir. My name is Battori." She answered. Aldis nodded and made a mental note. "Alright, then. Well, it's been nice meeting you, Battori. Off to the Jarl with you, now. I'll keep an eye out for you in training." "Battori" nodded and walked up the stairs to the throne room.

Sarila nervously walked towards the throne where Jarl Elisif sat. Elisif was so caught up in political affairs with her steward, Falk Firebeard, and her court mage, Sybille Stentor, that she didn't even notice Sarila approach. Sarila patiently stood by the Jarl for hours, and no one suspected a thing. Finally, another guard approached and offered to take Sarila's place. Sarila was overjoyed at the chance of escape, and she marched out of the palace to "continue patrolling".

As soon as she entered the Winking Skeever, Sarila approached Gulum-Ei. Gulum-Ei took one look at the "guard" in front of him and panicked. "Oh, uh….heh….what can I do for you…?" The Argonian fence nervously asked, sweat glistening on his scales. Sarila scoffed and took off her helmet. Gulum-Ei looked shocked for a moment before his blasé expression returned. "It's only me, Gulum-Ei. I apologize; I didn't mean to scare you." Sarila laughed, slipping out of her guard armor, revealing her normal outfit once more. She tossed the cloth she had used to stuff the armor on the ground.

Gulum-Ei chuckled. "Clever. I never would have imagined it." He praised. "And of course, let's not forget the wine I procured." Sarila beamed, reaching into her backpack and taking out the Firebrand Wine case. She handed the case of alcohol to Gulum-Ei who took it with a smile on his scaly face. "Excellent. That buyer will be most pleased with this successful dealing. And, of course, let's not forget your reward."

Gulum-Ei handed Sarila several unrecognizable potions, along with a brown bag. "What's in this bag?" Sarila asked curiously. Gulum-Ei chuckled once more. "Just a few alchemical ingredients I…'found'…in the East Empire Company Warehouse." He explained. Sarila untied the rough string around the bag and opened it. Much to her surprise, there were ice wraith teeth, fire salts, and a small pearl inside. She gaped in shock at these ingredients. "Gulum-Ei! Do you know how hard these are to find?!" She grinned, observing the ingredients once more in the bag. He nodded with a smile. "You didn't have to give me these, you know."

"Of course I did. You've been not only an excellent client, but…on a more personal note, a good friend. I wasn't sure of you at first, Sarila, but you've got a heart of gold. I won't forget that." Gulum-Ei smiled warmly to Sarila, who reflected his smile. "Thank you, Gulum-Ei. Thank you for everything. I'll come back up to visit, and maybe help you 'obtain' some more goods, too." Sarila pulled Gulum-Ei into a hug. Gulum-Ei chuckled. "And thank you, Sarila. Thank you for sparing my life when you could have easily had me killed for associating with Karliah." Gulum-Ei returned Sarila's embrace. "Stay safe, Gulum-Ei." Sarila released Gulum-Ei from her hug and walked back up to her room.

Unbeknownst to Sarila, Marcurio had looked over the balcony of the upper level, and had seen Sarila and Gulum-Ei hugging. He immediately knew the twinge he felt in his chest was one of jealousy.

Sarila and Ysgrig took the bed once more. The siblings blew out the candles on each nightstand and fell asleep almost immediately. Marcurio was still wide awake at his chair, though. He grumbled beneath his breath. "How could that…that…that damned, slimy, confounded lizard woo Sarila, and someone like me _didn't?_ Has she lost her mind?! What does she see in that…that…that laggard?!"

Marcurio continued to quietly ramble about how Gulum-Ei had supposedly attracted Sarila until he fell fast asleep at the table, face-down into a bowl of tomatoes.

The trio awoke early the next morning and left the city. The carriage driver of Solitude, Thaer, waited at the outskirts of the city by Katla's farm. Sarila asked him to drive them to Riften. "I can indeed. Twenty gold, please." Sarila dug around in her backpack until she found twenty gold. She handed them to Thaer, and sat in the back of the carriage with Marcurio and Ysgrig. The carriage then shoved off and began its journey to Riften.

"How long will this trip take, exactly?" Sarila asked the carriage driver. "About a day or so." Thaer answered, unfazed. Everyone in the back of the carriage groaned. "A _day?_ " Marcurio whined. "I suppose so. We have food if anyone's hungry." Ysgrig replied.

Sarila and Ysgrig chatted throughout the trip, occasionally stopping to take a nap or have lunch. Marcurio remained silent and bitter, and Sarila took notice. "What's the matter, Marcurio?" She asked. Marcurio refused to look into her tempting eyes. "Why don't you ask your lover? He seems to know everything." He spat.

Sarila was taken aback for a moment by Marcurio's harsh accusation. She leaned in to whisper to Ysgrig, who seemed slightly less confused by Marcurio's motives. "Who is he talking about?" Sarila asked. Ysgrig shrugged, though he hid a smirk from his oblivious sister. Marcurio, he thought, _did_ fancy his sister after all.

The day felt like weeks, and exactly twenty six hours after their departure, the carriage arrived at the Riften stables. It was 11:36 p.m., and Sarila felt exhausted, even though she had sat around in a carriage all day. Marcurio and Ysgrig would be lying if they said they didn't feel the same, and the two men stretched their leg muscles as they exited the carriage.

The trio arrived at the Bee and Barb. Lyvette began to run towards Sarila and tackle her in a hug, but she stopped when she saw how tired she looked. The ebony-haired seven year old noticed Marcurio and Ysgrig, who trailed behind her, also looked tired. Lyvette instead gave Sarila a sunny smile and helped her up to her room. Sarila trudged towards her bed and fell into it, though she was asleep before she even hit the covers.


	38. Gift

"No…it…it can't be." Mercer Frey mumbled, his eyes wide with worry.

"Gulum-Ei also told me she was a murderer." Sarila added, referencing Karliah. "This is grave news indeed. Karliah destroyed everything this Guild stood for. She murdered my predecessor in cold blood and betrayed the Guild. After we discovered what she'd done, we spent months trying to track her down, but she just vanished." Mercer continued. "Why has she returned?" "Karliah and I were like partners. I went with her on every heist. We watched each other's backs. I know her techniques, her skills. If she kills me, there'll be no one left that could possibly catch her. If only we knew where she was…" Mercer trailed off.

"Where the end began." Sarila repeated Gulum-Ei's words, and Mercer looked up at her. "Gulum-Ei told me she said, 'Where the end began'." Sarila clarified, fear no longer rattling her voice when she spoke to the bitter Mercer Frey. Mercer stroked his bearded chin for a moment before speaking. "There's only one place that could be." He clenched his fists. "The place where she murdered Gallus…a ruin called Snow Veil Sanctum."

Sarila fell silent. She knew exactly where Mercer was heading with their conversation. "We have to go out there before she disappears again." The words Sarila had predicted left Mercer's lips. "I see. What, exactly, will we be doing once we find her?" Sarila inquired. Mercer gave Sarila a cold glare. Even if she didn't tremble when talking to him, his trademark glare would _never_ stop frightening her. "Did you think we were going to invite her to the Flagon to enjoy a nice, three course meal, or maybe a bottle of Black-Briar Mead? No. We'll be going into Snow Veil Sanctum, and together, we're going to kill her."

Sarila lost any composure she had right as the words left Mercer's lips. "KILL?! I have to KILL someone?!" Mercer's glare answered her question. Sarila thought of sinking her dagger into Karliah—a living being's—flesh. The thought of it made bile rise to her throat. She imagined the life fading from someone's eyes, blood leaking from their throat, all because of her. Sarila began to hyperventilate. "I…I…I don't know if I can!" She cried, tears threatening to spill out onto her cheeks.

Mercer scoffed distastefully. "I suspected as much, which is why I've decided to bring someone else along on our little adventure. It will be the final test of our newest recruit. Maybe _she_ will have the backbone to make the kill." Sarila stopped panicking for a moment and eagerly listened to Mercer. "A new recruit? Who is she? Where is she now?" Sarila asked. Mercer suddenly looked up, not removing his scowl. "Ah, there you are, Sharp-Sun. I was beginning to wonder." Mercer mumbled.

Sarila turned around and was greeted by the familiar auburn braids of her extraordinary friend, Valelia Sharp-Sun. Sarila gasped in joyful surprise and opened her arms. "Valie!" Valie turned to Sarila and immediately recognized her. "Ah! I knew I'd find you here, Sarila-lass!" She greeted, accepting Sarila's warm embrace. The two separated when Mercer cleared his throat. "If you two foolish girls are quite finished here, I'd like you two to meet me at the ruins as soon as you possibly can. We can't let her slip through our fingers." The two women nodded and began to walk away. "Oh, Saleela, here's your payment for Solitude." Sarila turned back around and accepted an upgraded version of her guild armor. "And…well, with all due respect, sir, my name is _Sarila._ " Sarila politely corrected.

Mercer began to glare, but instead rolled his eyes. He instead cleared his throat and decided to press Sarila for details regarding Solitude and Gulum-Ei. "How did things go with Gulum-Ei? Not too tricky for you, I hope?" Mercer mockingly sneered. "Gulum-Ei? His tongue was rather easy to loosen up. I just did some talking, and he did the rest. He almost immediately gave the information. He's also offered to fence for us if we happen to be in Solitude, so that's always a plus." Sarila's specific answer had caught Mercer off-guard. He'd expected her to hit him with a whiny, sappy story of how he had hurt her, lied to her, cheated her, or even tried to kill her, but instead, Sarila was going on about how easy he was to convince.

Mercer made a mental note of Sarila's knack for persuasion and dismissed her with a wave of his gloved hand. He stood over his desk and began to flip through the yellow business ledger that had made its home there.

Sarila wanted to catch up with Valelia, but instead decided to get some jobs done for Vex and Delvin. "Got any jobs in Riften?" She'd asked Delvin, who was enjoying a loaf of bread. "Ah, good timing. Brynjolf wants this mark's head on a pike, but we'll settle for what's in his pockets instead." Delvin chuckled along with Sarila. "That bad, huh? Well, I'll get the job done, just give me the information, and I'll do the best I can." Sarila smiled.

Sarila continued to take jobs from Delvin and Vex for two more weeks. Ysgrig had gone back and forth from Riften to the Home. Mercer had eventually set out to see if Snow Veil Sanctum had any sign of Karliah. Sarila continued to rack up gold from the sweep, shill, fishing, and numbers jobs she took in Riften. Guards began to grow suspicious of Sarila, but were eventually convinced otherwise by her innocent appearance and pure personality.

Lyvette seemed to grow lonely at the Bee and Barb. She had Kharjo to talk to her, but it wasn't the same as having Sarila, or better yet, another kid, play with her. She sighed wistfully when she remembered playing with the girl next door back when her parents were still alive. The girl's name had escaped her mind, but Lyvette knew she'd never see her again.

The little girl's day brightened when Sarila came back from the guild. "You're back!" Lyvette ran to Sarila and crushed her legs in a hug. Sarila smiled at the little girl she had come to see as her own daughter. "I sure am! And, look what I've got!" Sarila grinned, pulling a bag from her backpack. Lyvette gasped with surprise. "It's a bag!" She beamed. Sarila laughed at Lyvette's silliness. "No, no! It's what's _in_ the bag!" She giggled.

Lyvette's mouth formed an "O" and she looked in the bag. She pulled out a beautiful purple and blue dress. "A new dress! A new dress! It's so beautiful!" She squealed, hopping up and down with her brand-new garment. Sarila felt a warmness in her heart at the child's euphoria. "I thought you might like it." Sarila softly told her, smiling. "Like it? I love it! It's so beautiful, it's the best thing ever!" Lyvette held the dress tightly to her heart. "Can I put it on? Can I?! Can I!?" Sarila laughed again at Lyvette's enthusiasm. "Of course you can, sweetie! It's your dress now, isn't it?"

Lyvette zipped up to their room at the speed of light, and a minute later, she returned wearing her gorgeous new dress. She walked around and flashed several poses. "I feel like a princess! Thank you so much, Sarila!" Lyvette gave Sarila another big hug. "You're very welcome, Lyvette. I'm so glad you like it."

Lyvette was able to sleep easily that night. She had dreams of dancing around in her dress, butterflies surrounding her, birds chirping in delight.

Sarila went to bed only after Ysgrig entered the inn. She and Ysgrig planned to visit the Home again before Sarila met up with Valie and Mercer for the confrontation of Karliah.

What Sarila didn't know was that Marcurio's jealousy only grew from his suspicions of Sarila's romance with Gulum-Ei. At one point, Marcurio thought he was being silly, but shook the thoughts away and continued his pointless sulking over a non-existent love between the Nord woman and the Argonian.


	39. Tension

"Why have you been so hostile lately? Marcurio, this isn't like you at all!"

Marcurio gritted his teeth at Sarila's words. "I'm not hostile!" "Then what are you?" Marcurio fell silent at Sarila's question. Lyvette saw the two arguing and turned to Ysgrig. "Uh-oh! Sarila and Mr. Marky are fighting!" Lyvette told him in a childish voice. Ysgrig did his best to hide a snicker and failed. "Well, Lyvette, they're fighting because…well, because…" Ysgrig let the laughter he had been containing free, attracting the attention of Sarila and Marcurio. "You think this is funny?" Marcurio snapped. "It's rather amusing." Ysgrig smirked. Marcurio and Sarila were both about to verbally attack Ysgrig, but Lyvette sensed this, and came to his rescue. "Grig-grig, come talk to my dolly with me!" Lyvette tugged on Ysgrig's arm. She dragged Ysgrig up the stairs and into her room, shutting the door behind her.

"Mr. Ysgrig, can you tell me why they're fighting?" Lyvette asked with her big, blue, innocent eyes gleaming. Ysgrig cleared his throat and stifled a chuckle. "Well…you see…" He began. He inhaled deeply. "Oh, this is going to be fun to explain." He mumbled under his breath. "Sarila…and…and Marcurio…they're in love." Ysgrig grinned, forming a heart with his fingers. "Love? Like, kissing and stuff?" Lyvette asked. "Eh, sort of." "Ew! That's gross!" Lyvette stuck out her tongue in disgust. Ysgrig chuckled at the young girl's naivety. "You'll understand one day when you're older what it's like to be in love, Lyvette." "Have you ever been in love?" Lyvette inquired, tilting her tiny head in curiosity. "Actually, yes, Lyvette. I have."

As Ysgrig and Lyvette talked upstairs, Marcurio and Sarila continued to argue with each other downstairs. "I've asked this several times, and I'm not going to ask again. What's been going on with you, Marcurio? You've been acting erratic since we left Solitude!" Sarila hissed. Marcurio gave her a deathly glare. "I don't know what you're talking about." He grumbled. Sarila felt her face heat up with anger. "Is there something I should know? Have you got some sort of secret love for Solitude that makes you want to live there for the rest of your life, but instead, you're stuck in Riften?" Sarila asked, crossing her arms angrily.

"Funny, I thought YOU were the one who would want to stay, seeing as your little love-lizard is there!" Marcurio snapped. "Love-lizard? LOVE-LIZARD?! That's what this is about?! You think I'm in bed with Gulum-Ei?! We're friends, Marcurio! FRIENDS! Nothing more!" Sarila defended herself, her face reddening with fury.

Marcurio felt like he had been kicked in the stomach. Every good argument, every witty comeback, and every harsh comment had faded from his mind. First, he felt confusion, then guilt, then sheepishness. He chuckled nervously and scratched the back of his neck. "You're…you're kidding, right? I had you and Gulum-Ei figured for a couple…Gulum-Ei…he's…yeah, he's a great fellow…he has…has a very nice shade of scale…" Marcurio awkwardly trailed off. He grew more and more intimidated by the glare of the enraged Sarila.

"Why would you think Gulum-Ei and I are an item? We're business partners, and the most personal we can get is a friendship!" Sarila lowered her voice, but still spoke in an angry tone. "Well, I saw you hug him, and—" "You saw me hug him?! Can't two people hug without being lovers? I hugged Kharjo once, does that make us lovers? Hmm? Oh, and the time I hugged Ysgrig after we reunited? Are my brother and I in a relationship now by your rules?"

Marcurio felt weaker and weaker the more he thought about it until he had decided that he was being foolish from the start. He immediately knew he needed to apologize to Sarila. As soon as he opened his mouth to speak, Sarila stopped him by shaking her head and stomping out of the inn.

Ysgrig heard the two stop fighting altogether, and decided to exit his hiding spot. Kharjo smiled at Ysgrig's expressions. "Those two have some unresolved conflicts, yes?" He chuckled, putting down his book. "Oh, I'll say. They've been arguing all morning. I'm surprised Keerava hasn't lost her mind yet." Ysgrig laughed, walking down the stairs.

When Ysgrig reached the bottom of the stairs, he saw Marcurio sitting at his normal bench staring ahead blankly. Ysgrig shook his head in amusement and walked over to the bewildered Imperial. "I knew you had feelings for my sister." Marcurio lifted his head at Ysgrig's words as the red-haired Nord sat next to him on the bench.

"What will I do? She won't even look at me now." Marcurio's eyes sunk once more at his own words. "Well, you need to let her calm down first. Sarila never got mad often as a little girl, but when she did, boy, it was like an earthquake." Ysgrig shuddered, remembering the times Sarila had lost her patience with him when they were children.

"When she's had time to cool off, you should try to patch things up with her. Tell her you're sorry." Ysgrig paused. "If you're looking to, say, 'interest' her, you could try complimenting her on something you admire about her, maybe give her a flower, or subtly hint that you harbor feelings for her." Ysgrig helpfully suggested in the most serious tone he could muster, albeit it wasn't easy.

Marcurio pondered Ysgrig's instructions for a few moments before nodding in agreement. _He does have a point. Besides, it's his sister. He knows her better than anyone here._ "You're right. I'll apologize as soon as she calms down. Thank you, Ysgrig." Marcurio thanked with a slight smile. Ysgrig nodded and walked back upstairs to grab his backpack and prepare for the trip back to the Home.

"Master of the arcane arts? That's me. Master of saying the wrong things and endangering friendships? That's me, too." Marcurio sighed, taking a swig of Nord Mead.

 **A/N: Oooooh, the next chapter's chapter forty! You know what that means, riiiiight?! Remember how chapter twenty was a special chapter? Well, chapter forty's gonna be special, too! And of course, what would a special chapter be without a preview?! Preview: INITIATE!**

"So, what do you think of Marcurio?" Ysgrig asked, determined to help Marcurio and Sarila find their love for one another. Sarila shrugged. "He's nice." "Anything else?" Sarila scoffed. "What is it that you want to know? Alright, fine; I think he's quite handsome. And funny. And smart. There, I said it."

"Sarila, listen…I'm sorry about earlier, alright? I jumped to conclusions, which I shouldn't have done." Marcurio apologized, scratching the back of his neck. Sarila looked into his eyes to check his sincerity, and nodded her head when she believed him. "It's okay. Next time, though, please don't make the same mistake again." "I won't. I promise." Marcurio grinned.

Sarila ran up the stairs and opened the door to her and Lyvette's room when she heard the little girl whimpering. Lyvette lay in her bed, clutching her doll. She looked up at Sarila with tears in her big, blue eyes. "S-Sarila, I had a-n-nother nightmare!"

"What's wrong? Chalvia? Chalvia?!" Mattha quickly stood up as Chalvia keeled over, vomiting up her previous meal. "Chalvia, can you stand?" Caehir asked as he stood up from his chair at the table. Mattha reached over and felt the Redguard woman's forehead. "Your forehead…it's burning up." Mattha stated, holding Chalvia's raven hair back as she finished retching. Sarila watched with fearful eyes as Chalvia stood up, her hazel eyes sunken and her cheeks flushed. "You're ill." Caehir commented aloud as he approached Chalvia, who was being held up by Mattha. "No, I'm not." Chalvia protested, wiping remnants of vomit from her mouth. "You're going to see Sa'etha." Mattha ordered the Redguard. "No, I'm not." Chalvia repeated, her voice showing clear frustration as Caehir lifted her into his arms and kept a firm grasp on her, walking her to Sa'etha's lab. "M-Mattha? **What's wrong with Chalvia?** "


	40. Apprehension

**A/N: It's here! I waited all day to write this, and it's finally here! Man, I'm on fire this week. Wow. This is the most I've published in a single week: eight chapters, and there will probably be more to come. As always, thanks for you continuous support, reviews are always appreciated, so let me know how I'm doing, blah blah blah, story time!**

Sarila had reentered the inn after her blowout with Marcurio. She was sopping wet, droplets of water falling from her golden hair. She squeezed her hair out, the water flooding onto the ground. Keerava gritted her teeth in annoyance at Sarila, who was ruining her perfectly dry inn, but kept quiet and instead wiped down the bar counter.

Sarila walked up the stairs, water trailing behind her, and was immediately met by Ysgrig at the top of the stairs. "Raining?" He asked. Sarila nodded and walked past him. She opened the door to her room to reveal a sleeping Lyvette, the young girl's breathing calm and even. Sarila made a mental note to be quiet as to not wake the child, and she slipped over to her bed and got out of her soaked clothes, instead changing into a light green dress and brown boots.

Lyvette began to stir, and Sarila froze. Lyvette mumbled something in her sleep and rolled over, holding her doll close to her heart. Sarila released the breath she had been holding and quickly and quietly left their room, closing the door gently behind her. She realized that since it was raining, she and Ysgrig wouldn't be going to the Home that day. Sarila sighed and looked around for something to do. She couldn't talk to Kharjo at that moment, as he was passed out at a table, a book over his face.

Seeing Kharjo with a book covering his face made Sarila grin a bit, as she imagined such a thing tended to happen to Mattha at the Home. She looked around some more until she noticed Ysgrig leaned against the wall, staring off into space as if he were in a daydream. Sarila pondered whether to interrupt his daydream or to leave him in bliss, but the curious side got the better of her, and soon enough, she made a beeline for her brother.

"Ysgrig, what're you thinking about?" Sarila softly asked, expecting her brother to jump out of his skin from surprise. Instead, Ysgrig remained unfazed and merely shrugged. "I don't know, really. Everything's been so…so…so different lately. Dragons, thieves, missions…oh, and your little girl with her dreams." Ysgrig explained. Sarila sighed; her brother seemed to sum up all of her feelings right there and then. "Thankfully, Lyvette hasn't shown any signs of her nightmares lately. She's been quite peaceful these past few weeks." Sarila paused and shook her head. "Of course, now that I said that, she'll probably start dreaming again, and things will go wrong."

"Aw, sis! Don't talk like that! Everywhere you go, things will go wrong, but it's up to us to make them better." Ysgrig encouraged, brushing a stray lock of hair from his sister's face. He smiled at Sarila, who seemed to lose any negative thoughts she had as she smiled back at her brother. Ysgrig's eyes soon focused on something on her face, and he frowned. "What? What's—" "Your scar." Ysgrig plainly answered, and Sarila understood. "I feel awful. Why should you get a scar, and I walk away unharmed? It just doesn't seem right." Ysgrig seemed to get lost in his thoughts as he spoke.

"I mean…just…those elves sliced father's head clean off…they blasted poor mother apart…they did Gods know what to Terdel, and your cheek…" Ysgrig fell silent as Sarila looked at him with sympathetic eyes. "Ysgrig, nothing is your fault. You didn't get hurt because the Gods did what they intended. I got hurt because I was foolish, and taunted the agent holding me captive. That's why I learned to hold my tongue, and that there's a time and place for everything." Sarila reassured. Ysgrig felt slightly better, but not entirely. The mischievous part of him awoke, and he decided to change the subject to something he'd enjoy.

"So, what do you think of Marcurio?" Ysgrig asked, determined to help Marcurio and Sarila find their love for one another. Sarila shrugged. "He's nice." "Anything else?" Sarila scoffed. "What is it that you want to know? Alright, fine; I think he's quite handsome. And funny. And smart. There, I said it."

Ysgrig felt a smile beginning to creep across his face, but he resisted the powerful urge to grin. "Sounds like you admire Marcurio." He noted. Sarila frowned. "It's not like that, Ysgrig." "Ah, ah, I never said it was. Now you're just putting words in my mouth." Sarila felt her cheeks heat up. Her brother had busted her. "Confound it. Okay, maybe I do feel something for him. But what does it matter, anyway? That damned Imperial's too cocky to even notice my quite possibly misguided affections." Sarila shot back. "Well, make of it what you will. I think he owes you an apology from earlier's squabble." Ysgrig called to Sarila as she walked down the stairs.

Keerava eyed Sarila, who was now dry, much to her relief. The golden-haired woman sat down at the Argonian's bar. "Talen, fetch the lady a drink, would you?" Keerava kindly called to her lover, who nodded and approached Sarila. "Care for some mead, or perhaps some wine, milady?" Talen-Jei asked. "Wine, please."

Sarila had paid Talen-Jei for the wine, and uncorked it immediately. The sweet taste lingered on her tongue with each swig she took. Sarila was slowly but surely getting drunk, and she knew she had to control herself when she began to feel lightheaded. She corked the beverage up, her vision becoming less distorted after she stopped drinking, and didn't fail to notice Marcurio had come to sit next to her at the bar. Marcurio cleared his throat. "Good evening, Sarila." He was answered with a silent nod and a blank stare, her sobriety slowly returning to her.

"Sarila, listen…I'm sorry about earlier, alright? I jumped to conclusions, which I shouldn't have done." Marcurio apologized, scratching the back of his neck. Sarila looked into his eyes to check his sincerity, and nodded her head when she believed him. "It's okay. Next time, though, please don't make the same mistake again." "I won't. I promise." Marcurio grinned.

"But Gulum-Ei? Really? What made you think I had taken a liking to him?" Sarila grinned at Marcurio's silly thoughts. Marcurio began to smile when he saw Sarila had lightened up. "I saw you hug, and after how well you two got along those past few weeks, I figured you two were an item." Marcurio shrugged sheepishly, his grin not leaving his face.

Sarila felt the tips of her ears flush. _Marcurio and I get along well most days…maybe he thinks I'm interested in him?_

"Sarila, are you feeling alright? Your face is awfully red." Marcurio pointed to her reddening cheeks. "Huh? Oh, it's the wine. Definitely the wine." Sarila answered quickly, beginning to sweat as she pointed to the bottle of wine she had almost completely wolfed down. Marcurio wasn't convinced in the slightest. He smirked and was about to question her motives when a shrill cry was heard upstairs, startling everyone in the vicinity. "Was that—" "Lyvette!" Sarila leapt up from her seat and dashed to the stairs.

Sarila ran up the stairs and opened the door to her and Lyvette's room when she heard the little girl whimpering. Lyvette lay in her bed, clutching her doll. She looked up at Sarila with tears in her big, blue eyes. "S-Sarila, I had a-n-nother nightmare!"

 _Damn it! I knew it! I just knew it!_

Sarila's breathing hitched and she sat down on Lyvette's bed, placing a reassuring hand on Lyvette's tiny shoulder. "There, there, Lyvette. Tell me what happened and we'll see if we can make it better." Sarila gently told the little girl.

"Thedeadpeoplecameoutandtriedtohurtthethreelivingonesbuttheydidn'tandtheyranandthebigroomandthearrowand—" "Lyvette! Calm down, it's alright!" Sarila reassured. Lyvette wiped the droplets of drool that had spewed from her mouth onto her chin in her frantic words. Lyvette took a deep breath and exhaled.

"There were these three people; two of them had hoods on, but one of them didn't, and he was a man. I don't know what the other two were. They went into this creepy place in the ground, it was like a cave. There were coffins and dead people, and the three people got chased. It was so horrible!" Lyvette wailed, tears spilling onto her cheeks. Sarila gave Lyvette a sympathetic look and hugged her, rubbing her back in calming motions. "It's alright, Lyvette. It's okay. There aren't any monsters here, you're safe." Sarila quietly hummed to the frightened little girl.

Lyvette gulped in huge breaths of air, sticky tears still trailing down her cheeks. "Then…they beat the dead people, but…there was a lock, and the man unlocked it. The door went down, and there was a big, big room behind it. It looked really cool, but this person was there, and they had a bow. They were about to shoot someone, but…" Lyvette trailed off, calming down. "What happened?" Sarila softly asked. "I woke up before I could see the rest. I'm glad. It was so scary."

Sarila sighed, stroking the poor girl's hair. "I know these dreams are scary, Lyvette. I know you don't like them, but I promise you, none of this will _ever_ happen to you." "Promise? Please promise, Sarila! That person with the bow made me really scared, I didn't like it at all!" Lyvette pleaded with her big, blue eyes. "I promise, Lyvette. I promise no one will _ever_ shoot you with an arrow."

Lyvette thought for a moment before nodding. "Thanks, Sarila." Lyvette thanked, lying back down with her doll. "But I have one more question." "What's that?" "Can you sing me a song?" Lyvette requested with her hopeful grin.

Sarila chuckled. "Of course I will, Lyvette. What do you want me to sing?" Sarila asked. Lyvette put on her thinking face before shrugging. "I don't know, Sarila. You can sing whatever you like."

Sarila closed her eyes and searched her mind for a song. Not just any song, but a special song; one that had memorable lyrics that never faded from her mind, no matter how long it had been since she had heard them. Sarila sighed with a smile at remembering the song, closing her eyes lightly as she parted her lips to sing.

 _The sunlight's streaming through the sway-ing trees…_

 _The sky is bluer than a thou-sand seas…_

 _We all fight_

 _Through the night_

 _The survivors do shiver…_

 _All we ask_

 _Is to bask_

 _In a moonlight river…_

 _They smile upon us_

 _But they do frown…_

 _The Twin Moons' intentions_

 _To light our town…_

 _Our chance of survival_

 _Is but a mere sliver…_

 _All we ask_

 _Is to bask_

 _In a moonlight river…_

 _Gods, have mercy on Skyrim…_

 _The deathly frozen land…_

 _It is grim to the brim_

 _And our lifestyles bland…_

 _With our swords in our sheaths_

 _And our arrows in the quiver…_

 _All we ask_

 _Is to bask_

 _In a moonlight river…_

 _Friends and family we've lost_

 _Over lands we all have glossed…_

 _All we ask_

 _Is to bask_

 _In a moonlight river…_

 _In a moonlight river…_

 _All we ask_

 _Is to bask_

 _In a moonlight river._

Sarila opened her eyes at the song's end to discover Lyvette had fallen fast asleep. She smiled at the sleeping girl and kissed her forehead before leaving the room, shutting the door quietly behind her.

Ysgrig stood silently by the door to Sarila and Lyvette's room. He cleared his throat and looked down, tears threatening to spill from his emerald eyes. Sarila smiled sadly at her brother. He looked up at her, his eyes slightly glossing over. "You sang her the lullaby mom made." He stated, his voice beginning to crack. Sarila felt a tear drip onto her cheek and she nodded, pulling Ysgrig into a tight hug. "I did." She solemnly whispered against his auburn hair, tears matting his locks.

When the twins had recomposed themselves, they both agreed to get to bed, as they'd have another long walk ahead of them to the Home in the morning.

Lyvette didn't wake up again that night and slept soundly, much to Sarila's relief.

Sarila and Ysgrig got up quite early the next morning. The two had already packed, and all they had to do was go downstairs and wake Marcurio. The twins approached Marcurio, who was snoring loudly as he slouched against the wall on the bench he always sat on. Ysgrig grinned mischievously at Marcurio's sleeping form, and Sarila didn't miss it. Ysgrig turned to his sister. "Still have the wine?" He asked. Sarila nodded, pulling the wine she had saved from the previous night out of her backpack.

Ysgrig slowly crept towards Marcurio, whose mouth was dangling wide open as he slept. He quietly uncorked the bottle and poured the liquid into Marcurio's mouth. Marcurio jolted upright at the foreign feeling and taste of wine invading his mouth as he slept. The wine spilled out of his mouth and onto his shoes. What Marcurio didn't spit out, he drank. He was confused and disoriented at first, but the laughing twins told him everything he needed to know. "Ha. Very funny, Ysgrig." Marcurio muttered, kicking the wine off his shoes.

After Ysgrig's little practical joke, and a scolding from an upset Keerava about her wine-stained floor, the trio left Riften and made their way back to the Home. The walk there was rather peaceful; the only disturbance the three had encountered was a single wolf, which had thankfully not noticed them as he prowled the forests in search of a good meal.

When they entered the Home, they were greeted by silence. A moment later, Chalvia came rushing through the hallways with a huge smile on her face to greet them. "Ysgrig!" Chalvia dashed to Ysgrig and swallowed him up in a hug. "Missed you too, Chalvia." Ysgrig replied warmly, wrapping his arms around her as well. Sarila felt her insides go gooey and she smiled. Chalvia and Ysgrig, she thought, would make such a fine couple. She silently wished Chalvia would make her move and confess to Ysgrig.

"It's good to have you back, everyone. Dinner was fifteen minutes ago, but I'll eat with you." Chalvia explained to the group. "Excellent. Thank you, Chalvia." Ysgrig thanked. Chalvia shyly nodded, looking into Ysgrig's emerald green eyes with a smile. Ysgrig smiled back at her, and the two looked away, both with a bright pink tint to their cheeks. Chalvia darted off towards the dining room, the trio following close behind.

"We're having Pheasant Roast tonight. It should still be warm. I'll go fetch it from the kitchen right now." Chalvia was gone in the blink of an eye, and Ysgrig, Sarila, and Marcurio sat down at the table. Chalvia returned a moment later with three plates of Pheasant Roast, and a large bowl of tomato soup. Sarila immediately took notice of this. "You're not having Pheasant Roast?" Chalvia shook her head and began to slurp up her soup like a thirsty dog on a particularly hot day. "I didn't really feel like Pheasant Roast tonight. Tomato soup is delicious, though." She grinned, soup sloppily dribbling down her chin.

The four ate their meals. Chalvia had devoured her soup, and ran off to talk to Mattha, leaving Ysgrig, Marcurio, and Sarila alone at the dining table.

The trio went their separate ways in the home. Ysgrig decided to pay Omir a visit and have his weapon touched up a bit. Marcurio bumped into Reea'th in the hallway, and struck up a conversation with him. While the Argonian and Imperial were talking, Sarila snuck off to find Chalvia and Mattha, who were in the main hallway on the couch.

Sarila noticed that Mattha didn't have her nose buried in a book, and was actually engaging in a conversation with Chalvia. Caehir sat at a nearby table, sipping on some ale. Caehir took notice of Sarila and put his ale down. "Good to see you, Sarila. It's been quite a while." The Bosmer politely greeted, giving a brief wave to the woman. "It certainly has, Caehir. Hope you've been keeping well!"

Sarila approached Mattha and Chalvia, who were still chatting on the couch. Mattha looked up briefly to smile at Sarila. "Care to join us? We're having a nice chat about how well things have been going here these past few weeks." Sarila nodded at Mattha's words. "What's everyone been up to?" She asked.

"Qattindra finally found another hobby besides hunting. She occasionally drops in to help Sa'etha with sorting alchemical ingredients, and she knows how to brew simple potions now." Chalvia answered, massaging her temples. "How is everyone else? Are they well?" Sarila inquired. Mattha nodded. "We've all been resuming our normal day-to-day activities. Chalvia sometimes makes a meal for herself if she doesn't want to eat what the rest of us are eating, but that's really the only change around here. Well…there is something else…" Mattha trailed off. Sarila gave her a look that told her to finish what she had started to say. "That bloody Omir has been showing his face more often now. If I had my way, it'd be the opposite." Mattha scowled. Sarila felt like she wanted to know about the unspoken rivalry between Omir and Mattha, but decided not to pry.

Out of the blue, Chalvia began to groan, her hands shaking with intense spasms, prompting Sarila, Mattha, and even Caehir to shift their attention over to her.

"What's wrong? Chalvia? Chalvia?!" Mattha quickly stood up as Chalvia keeled over, vomiting up her previous meal. "Chalvia, can you stand?" Caehir asked as he stood up from his chair at the table. Mattha reached over and felt the Redguard woman's forehead. "Your forehead…it's burning up." Mattha stated, holding Chalvia's raven hair back as she finished retching. Sarila watched with fearful eyes as Chalvia stood up, her hazel eyes sunken and her cheeks flushed. "You're ill." Caehir commented aloud as he approached Chalvia, who was being held up by Mattha. "No, I'm not." Chalvia protested, wiping remnants of vomit from her mouth. "You're going to see Sa'etha." Mattha ordered the Redguard. "No, I'm not." Chalvia repeated, her voice showing clear frustration as Caehir lifted her into his arms and kept a firm grasp on her, walking her to Sa'etha's lab. "M-Mattha? What's wrong with Chalvia?"

Mattha's face grew worried, wrinkles appearing on her forehead. "I don't know! Chalvia's been acting a little off lately, but I figured it was nothing. Let's go see Sa'etha." Mattha beckoned for Sarila to follow her to the Argonian doctor's lab.

"…and she keeled over and lost her last meal." Caehir finished explaining what had happened just as Sarila and Mattha entered the lab. Chalvia sat in a padded chair, and Sa'etha was feeling her forehead. "Her forehead _does_ feel hot. Has there been anything else? Any other symptoms that showed in those moments?" Sa'etha asked. Caehir shrugged. Sa'etha turned to Sarila and Mattha, shooting them a quizzical look that asked the same question she had asked Caehir. "Her hands shook quite a bit, that much I know." Mattha recanted.

"It's not a big deal, I told you I'm fine." Chalvia continued to protest. Sa'etha shook her head. Mattha frowned. "No, Chalvia. You're NOT fine. There's something wrong." Mattha looked to Sa'etha for backup. Sa'etha nodded in agreement and sighed. "Mavothan is right. I'm going to need to examine you. In case there is something wrong, I'm going to need to brew a potion of cure disease, possibly a healing potion." The Argonian told Chalvia, who seemed distraught.

Sarila suddenly remembered something. She rooted around in her backpack and carefully pulled out the unrecognizable potions Gulum-Ei had given her in Solitude, along with the bag of elusive ingredients. "I have some things for you, maybe they could help?" Sarila half-stated and half-asked, handing the items to Sa'etha, who observed them closely. "A potion of cure disease, a potion of healing, and a potion of frost resistance, which I don't think we'll need right now. As for these ingredients, I'm sure I can find some use for them. Thank you very much, Sarila." Sa'etha gave Sarila a polite nod and smile as she placed the items on the nearby end table with great care.

Sa'etha cleared her throat. "Now, I work better without an audience. I'm sure you all have things you need to take care of. Mattha, if you don't mind, I'm going to need you here with me." Mattha nodded and sat by Chalvia, who looked at her with pleading eyes.

Sarila and Caehir walked out of Sa'etha lab, closing the heavy door behind them. The two were uncomfortably silent until they were approached by Marcurio and Reea'th. Marcurio took one look at Sarila and Caehir and immediately knew something was wrong. "What's the matter? You two look like you've seen a ghost." Marcurio remarked cautiously. "Something's wrong with Chalvia." Sarila blurted. "What?" Marcurio and Reea'th seemed to ask at the same time. Their interests were piqued, and the two edged closer to Caehir and Sarila. Caehir nodded. "Chalvia got sick a few moments ago. Her head was hot as fire, and her eyes were sunken and dead. There's something very, _very_ wrong." He explained grimly, running a tense hand through his chestnut hair.

Soon, Omir had heard what had happened when Reea'th burst into Omir's forging room, and Qattindra heard not long after. Qattindra rushed to tell Ysgrig, who had returned to his office, and in no time at all, everyone but Mattha, Sa'etha, and Chalvia were gathered in the dining hall, anxiously sitting at the long, wooden table.

The only sounds in the dining hall were the tapping of feet, the pitter-patter of water from small gaps in the masonry, and the occasional cough as the residents of the Home shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

The tension was so thick, it could have been cut with a knife.

Finally, after about an hour of waiting, Mattha entered the dining hall.

Every eye in the room was on Mattha.

From the looks of it, she had been sweating profusely, and she had bitten her nails down to the quick.

Her disheveled appearance did little to calm the group's tense nerves.

For the first time, Sarila had seen fear on Mattha Mavothan's normally calm face.

And she didn't like it.

No one crowded around Mattha for answers. No one jumped up and asked questions.

No one said a word.

They just stared.

Mattha parted her dry lips to speak, but no sound came.

She tried again. "Chalvia…she's…"

Everyone listened intently, the foul reek of sweat prevailing in the dining hall as everyone grew more and more anxious.

"Chalvia's pregnant."

At that moment in time, everyone completely froze. Their hearts caught in their throat, the hall grew deafeningly silent, and not even the dripping of water rang through the hall.

Slowly, Sarila turned her head to face Ysgrig, who sat next to her, staring ahead like everyone else.

"It's yours, isn't it?" She blankly asked.

Ysgrig's paling face was all she needed for an answer.


	41. A New Life

There was a sense of tension in the Home. Everyone seemed to swing from one mood to another. The dining hall was mostly silent, save for a few murmurs between Qattindra and Caehir at Sarila's previous statement. Marcurio and Sarila exchanged several worried glances.

Sarila faced her brother once more, who was still white as a sheet.

"Ysgrig…how? When did…?" She asked, failing to form proper words. Ysgrig was still deathly pale, but he spoke.

"It was…it was the night before we left for Solitude. It was when Chalvia mentioned she wanted to see me. I came to her room, and we talked, and…she said…" Ysgrig took a deep breath, his sister placing a calming hand on his shoulder. "…said that she loved me, ever since we had met that day on the hill…and…I knew all along I'd felt the same…and…we kissed, and…" Several of the residents of the Home were now listening to Ysgrig, who perked up immensely as he thought of what had happened. "And now I'm going to be a father, and it's my job to be there for my child, or children, just like father did for us, Sarila."

Just like that, all the tension in the Home had melted away at Ysgrig's words. Slowly, smiles crept onto everyone's faces at the thought of a baby in the Home. It was a joyous moment that hadn't faded from anyone's mind. Even Mattha and Omir had exchanged warm smiles.

"Well, Ysgrig, you're the father, so what do _you_ think Chalvia will have?" Caehir asked Ysgrig with a grin. Ysgrig smiled and thought for a moment. "I want to say she'll have a girl, but I've got a feeling it's a boy." He answered, and everyone crooned at the thought of a bouncing baby boy.

"Wait, what if she has twins like mother?" Sarila asked Ysgrig. "Then we'll have to follow mother's example. I'd imagine she had a hard time raising us as babies, but we turned out fine." Mattha looked back at the door she had entered through, and turned back to face Ysgrig. "You know, Ysgrig, I think you should go talk to Chalvia. She's going to need some calming down, and of course, she'll immediately lighten up when she sees you." Mattha suggested. Ysgrig nodded and got up.

"I'll go talk to Chalvia. For now, why doesn't everyone get some rest? It's going to be a cold day, tomorrow." Ysgrig declared as he walked out of the room and into the dining hall.

Everyone dispersed, and Sarila had a feeling that all anyone would want to talk about for a while would be the baby. Sarila wanted to talk to Marcurio, but the mention of kissing and babies brought a light pink blush to her cheeks.

Omir sensed something he hadn't sensed since Chalvia was so on edge about confessing to Ysgrig. His senses led him to Sarila, who was not-so-subtly staring ahead at Marcurio as he walked back to his room.

Sarila felt a pair of eyes on her, and looked around until she found Omir. Omir flashed his teeth at Sarila in a grin and winked at her. Sarila's cheeks reddened even more.

 _Damn it. I forgot that cat could sense these things._

Sarila nervously smiled back and waved to Omir as he walked back to his forging room. She released the breath she had been holding and trudged back to the room she and Marcurio shared.

Marcurio had tucked himself into bed and was about to drift off to sleep when the door opened and Sarila walked in. Marcurio sat upright in his bed and smiled. "Congratulations." Sarila turned to face him, a confused look upon her face. "Why are you congratulating me?" "Because you're going to be an aunt." "Oh." Sarila had, in truth, almost completely forgotten of Chalvia's unexpected pregnancy, and smiled in thanks to Marcurio.

"I've never seen a baby before." Marcurio confessed aloud as Sarila lay down in the bed across from him. "Me neither. Only when Ysgrig and I were babies, but that doesn't really count." Sarila added, and the two were silent for a moment. "I wonder if it will be a boy like Ysgrig says, or if it'll be twins just like he and I." Marcurio shrugged. "There's really a possibility for everything." Marcurio commented. The two were silent once more. "I'm sure Lyvette would love to see the baby when it's born. I'll have to remember to bring her here soon." Sarila told Marcurio.

The two continued to talk, and the room would continue to go completely silent when they ran out of things to say, until one of them sparked up a new topic. Eventually, Marcurio was fast asleep in his bed, and Sarila silently admired his sleeping form until she was overtaken by sleep as well.

Sarila felt herself in a patch of surprisingly soft grass, and her violet eyes fluttered open. The sky, filled with stars, was a light purple shade, and images of Ytri, Terdel, and her parents floated through the sky. The images seemed to change as quickly as they had appeared. Sarila had seen her parents congratulating Ysgrig and Chalvia, before watching Ytri and Terdel showering the two in praise.

Sarila looked down at her outfit and noted that it had changed completely. It was no longer the light green dress she had worn, but was now a lavender, silk dress that reached the ground, hiding her dainty feet. She had a translucent shawl on, and her cheek was once again unscarred. The only thing that hadn't changed, however, was Ytri's amulet of Talos that hung around her neck, the blood still filling the grooves of Ytri's name.

Sarila imagined the baby after its birth. She imagined holding it lovingly in her arms, nuzzling her new niece or nephew. She was happy with whatever the Gods gave them.

"Excited, Sarilly?" The voice of Sarila's mother rang out. In a patch of flowers nearby, a sparkling figure appeared. Her mother, who was now wearing a gorgeous red gown instead of the rags she wore in life, began to form in the sparkles. Her blue eyes appeared on her face, followed by her pink, plump lips. Lastly, the golden hair that matched Sarila's appeared, emitting its own shine. Sarila gasped, happy tears falling from her eyes. "Mom!" Sarila ran into her mother's open arms, squeezing her tight as her mother hugged her.

Sarila felt another pair of arms around her back, and she looked up to see her father, smiling down at her and her mother as he held the two women he loved with all his heart.

"You're going to be an aunt now, Sarila. We're so proud of you and your brother." Her father stroked his daughter's hair, something Sarila had missed since she was a child. "I just wish you both were still here. You would have been such amazing grandparents." Sarila told her parents, not releasing them from her grasp. "We've done all we can, Sarila. Our goal as parents was to raise you and Ysgrig to be cunning, polite, and kindhearted Nords, and our goals have been long since accomplished." Her mother squeezed her hand lovingly. "We know your brother is going to be an excellent parent, just like you, Sarila." Her father added.

"But I'm not a parent. Not yet, anyway." Sarila informed her parents, who smiled and shook their heads. "But you are, Sarila. You have Lyvette. You might not be her biological mother, but you certainly act like one. Lyvette has come to love you more than she had even loved her own mother." Sarila's mother reasoned. Sarila realized that her parents _did_ have a point. She had never really considered herself Lyvette's mother until that point.

"Just remember, Sarila. Your mother and I will always be with you and Ysgrig in your hearts and your minds." Sarila continued to squeeze her parents in a hug until their bodies were consumed with sparkles, and they slowly disappeared, waving to Sarila. They appeared once more in the night sky, still waving. They joined for an embrace and looked at their daughter one last time before disappearing from the sky altogether, the stars dimming.


	42. Ladies First

**A/N: Heyyyy, guys! Welcome back to-*ducks under knives and cleavers and hides under table* I'M SORRY! I know it's been a little over a month since I last updated! Please don't kill me! …Okay, can I come out now? Good, thanks! *comes out from under table* Like I was saying…welcome back to the story! I've been super busy with school and studying. But uh, anyway, here's the story!**

Sarila had met up with Valelia on the way to Snow Veil Sanctum. Before she left, Marcurio insisted he _had_ to accompany her. Sarila instead gave him a gentle smile and shook her head. Marcurio sighed and realized what this meant; he had to once again babysit Lyvette with Kharjo, lest the curious child end up following Sarila to Snow Veil Sanctum out of curiosity.

Valelia was quite surprised to find Sarila in the wilds all by herself. She was sure Sarila's brother or the man who seemed to be her bodyguard would be there with her. Sarila immediately saw Valelia, and the two ran to each other.

Not long after, the two were hiking through the forests of Skyrim and into the plains on their way to meet Mercer. The two had struck up a series of conversations.

"So tell me, when did you join the Thieves' Guild?" Sarila asked. Valelia smiled. "Funny story about that. It was Brynjolf who inducted me, but we met because I almost fell into the canal." Sarila laughed. "You almost fell into the canal?" She asked, still laughing. Valie chuckled. "I did indeed, Sarila. I was looking over the edge at all the fish, when the Argonian Madesi walked past me. He accidentally whacked me with his tail as he walked by, and I fell forward. Just as I was about to fall into the canal, I felt a strong pair of hands grasping my arms and pulling me back. It was Brynjolf."

Sarila laughed. "Poor Madesi must have been so embarrassed!" Valelia nodded. "He apologized immediately after. That was probably thanks to Brynjolf's frightening glare he shot towards him." Valie added, and the two girls giggled. "I'll never forget the first words Brynjolf said to me;" She paused and moved her auburn locks to cover her mouth and chin to look like a beard and mustache. "'Not the best time to be taking a dive, lass.'" Valie imitated, lowering her voice to sound like Brynjolf's.

Sarila let out a loud guffaw of sheer amusement. "HA! That sounded almost exactly like him! You had his accent and everything about his voice!" Valelia grinned, and her smile soon grew awkward as her cheeks reddened, her ice blue eyes dropping to look at her feet as they moved along the lush grass of the plains. "Brynjolf and I are…close." She whispered, letting out a quiet giggle. Sarila's mouth formed an 'O' and she grinned widely, giving Valelia a knowing look. "You and he are…lovers?" Sarila teasingly asked. Valie gave her several subtle nods. "Aww, Valie! I'm so happy for you! It seems like love is popping up everywhere!"

Sarila and Valelia both continued to giggle as they walked, only hurrying up when several tiny crystals of snow gracefully drifted to the ground, more following soon after. "I mean, there's my brother and his lifelong friend, now there's you and Brynjolf, and there's-" Sarila stopped herself. She blushed profusely, almost having told Valelia of her silly crush on Marcurio. _But Gods, is that Imperial handsome._

"And who? Sarila, I know you fancy someone, so just say it. It'll feel good to get it off yer chest, and besides, I'm not going to tell anyone." Sarila sighed, but smiled anyway. "His name is Marcurio. Remember that day when you killed the dragon? He was the wizard fellow who cast several spark and fire spells at the dragon." Valelia thought for a moment, trying to remember him. "Was he the fellow in the brownish-beige robes with the black hair in a ponytail?" She asked. Sarila nodded.

Valelia remembered Marcurio immediately. "Aye. That fellow risked his life just to help kill an overgrown lizard." Sarila sighed and nodded. "He's too proud for his own good. I thought he was going to die. I thought _you_ were going to die." Sarila added.

"I appreciate yer concern, Sarila. I truly do. By now, though, ye should know that I'm not going down without a fight." Valelia proudly announced. Sarila smiled and rolled her eyes. "It's still good to be extra cautious. There's no such thing as being too careful. And, Gods, I can barely imagine how many adventurers out there lost their lives to a careless mistake." Sarila shuddered at the thought.

"Mercer's got a keen eye for traps. We'll be fine so long as we stick with him." Valie stopped herself. "Well…let me rephrase that…we'll be fine so long as we don't anger him." She corrected. Sarila turned to Valie. "Do you trust him?" She asked, looking her in the eyes. Valelia opened her mouth to speak, but no words came. She licked her lips and opened her mouth again. "I'm not really sure what to think about that fellow. He strikes me as the kind 'o man who would leave ye to die just to give himself a few more seconds to escape. I can barely say I trust him, not as a grown man, not as a lad, not 'til he proves himself."

Sarila sighed. "I don't think he approves of me. He acted like it was a chore to welcome me to the Guild." Valie nodded. "Aye. He disapproves of everyone. Found myself been wond'ring why. Perhaps he had a wife who died young?" She theorized. Sarila wondered for a moment if Mercer had any family. "I don't think a man as coldhearted as Mercer would ever find himself a woman to marry, but there's a first time for everything."

Sarila and Valelia continued to make idle chatter as they walked, keeping their eyes open for predators, Mercer, or even Karliah. The sun had sunk below the horizon, and the two relied on the Twin Moons and the stars in the glittering night sky to light their path. Before long, they had stumbled into the territory of Winterhold. Several snow foxes trotted by as a frosty blizzard began, but the pair ignored the bitter cold and the wildlife, and instead focused on reaching Snow Veil Sanctum.

"Sarila! Look at that!" Valie called out, pointing to something lying face down, drenched in blood. The two approached the figure. A horse lay dead in the snow by the hill, blood coating its matted fur. "Do you think this was Mercer's horse?" Sarila asked. "Only one way to find out." Valie ran up the hill.

Sarila followed in hot pursuit, stopping when she saw Valelia conversing with Mercer. _So he_ is _alive._

Mercer's attention shifted over to Sarila as she stumbled up the hill. "Took you long enough." He sneered. Valie turned to Sarila. "He hasn't seen Karliah, but the horse we found was hers. She's inside Snow Veil Sanctum." The two girls turned back to face Mercer, who had his dwarven sword at the ready. "Let's get moving, I want to catch her inside while she's distracted. Valelia, you're the more able-bodied one here, so I want you to take the lead. Sajira-" " _Sarila."_ Sarila defensively corrected. " _Sarila,_ you're going to stay close to Valelia. Both of you had better make certain you keep your eyes open. Karliah is as sharp as a blade. The last thing I need is one of you girls blundering into a trap and warning her that we're here. Understood?" "Understood." They both answered simultaneously.

One by one, they crept down the stairs to the ruin catacombs. Valelia slowly approached the door and took the handle, tugging on it. She shook her head in frustration and kicked the door. "Damned ancient Nords and their damned ancient puzzles! The thing's locked!" She spat, crossing her arms.

Sarila was about to give the door a try, but Mercer stepped up to it, making Sarila slink away in defeat. The Breton man sized up the iron door. "They say that these ancient Nordic burial mounds are sometimes impenetrable. This one doesn't look too difficult." He mumbled, stepping closer to the lock. "Quite simple really, I don't know what the fuss is about these locks." He bragged. Valelia, not impressed, began to mock Mercer as he spoke. "All it takes is a bit of know-how…and a lot of skill." He boasted, Valelia mimicking him behind his back, much to Sarila's amusement. Finally, a satisfying _click_ was heard, and the door to the catacombs was unlocked. Mercer stepped away. Either he hadn't heard Valelia mocking him, Sarila thought, or he simply didn't care.

"That should do it. Ladies first." Mercer stated with fabricated politeness, shooting glares to each woman. Valelia opened the door slowly, the snow immediately blowing into the catacombs. Valelia recognized the sharp musk of death and decay in the catacombs, but didn't fret, as she'd crawled through her share of dungeons. Sarila, however, had never been in such a place, and was scared stiff.

Valelia cautiously entered the catacombs first, surveying the room. She motioned for Sarila and Mercer to follow. Sarila took one last look at the outside world before venturing into the mysterious, bone-chilling depths of the Snow Veil Sanctum Catacombs.


	43. Crimson Sorrows

_Darkness._

That was all Sarila could see.

 _Death._

That was all Sarila could smell.

 _Drained._

That was all Sarila could feel.

Valelia observed every crack, chip, and cranny in the walls of the ancient catacombs. Ferns and mosses grew from some of the cracks, she had noted. She looked back at Sarila, who looked pale as death as she blankly marched down the stairs. Valie felt sympathy for her friend. This was her just a few short weeks ago, frightened to death as she traversed Bleak Falls Barrow, the first crypt she had explored. The candles ahead provided dim lighting, enough for Sarila to feel safer and more focused.

With Valelia's careful leadership, Sarila felt more at ease, ignoring the dust that blew into her eyes and the cobwebs that tickled her feet. Mercer Frey was impressed at how well Sarila was doing, though he certainly didn't show it.

The trio swept through the catacombs, sidestepping dead draugr and uncontrolled roots that had grown through the cracks in the wall, all the while clearing chests and burial urns of whatever valuable trinkets and baubles they could find. Sarila heard a loud scratching sound behind one of the coffins and slowly edged closer to investigate. Valelia whistled loud enough for Sarila to hear, causing the golden-haired woman to look over at her. Valie and Mercer both motioned for Sarila to get back.

Sarila obeyed, and soon, the coffin door fell with a loud _thud._ Sarila turned around to find herself face-to-face with a Nord. This Nord, however, wasn't alive, though he wasn't dead.

He was a draugr.

Sarila gasped and stepped back from the undead man, tripping over the fallen coffin lid's edge. The draugr stepped forward and unsheathed his war axe. He turned his head towards Sarila, who scrambled to get off the ground, and opened his mouth, revealing his decaying teeth as he let out a fierce growl. His glowing blue eyes went dim when a sword pierced his skull, dust and old bone flying through the air. The draugr collapsed, silenced for a final time, and Valie pulled her sword from the fiend's head, quickly offering Sarila her hand.

Valelia mentally scolded herself for not preparing Sarila for the draugr. She had remembered the first time she had seen draugr herself, back in Bleak Falls Barrow. They had arisen from their tombs and ripped that Arvel fellow to shreds. They soon turned on Valie, and though she was strong enough to overpower the dusty bonewalkers, she was left frightened by the monstrosities.

Valelia turned back to Sarila, who was still in a temporary state of shock. "Just stay calm. Ye can beat them, Sarila. They're just dusty old bags 'o bones, remember that." She whispered.

The group swept through the catacombs, ransacking all the urns and chests they could find. Sarila had managed to get the hang of fighting off the draugr, and she had killed five of them. She'd picked up one stumbling shambler's iron shield, looping her arm through it. This shield, she thought, would certainly come in handy.

Before long, the trio had come across a room full of dangling bones. Sarila shuddered in disgust. _What sort of sick person would string dead people's bones and hang them from ceilings?_ Mercer stroked his bearded chin. "Hmm. Bone chimes. Clever. Rigged to wake the draugr, I'd bet. Don't blunder into any of them." Mercer quietly yet sternly ordered, looking both women in the eyes. The two nodded in understanding. Valelia went through first, and sidestepped every bone chime in the proximity.

Valie motioned for Sarila to come next. Sarila was smaller than any of them, and was able to crawl under the bone chimes without touching them. As soon as she reached the other side, Valelia took her by the hand and helped her up. Mercer darted past all the bone chimes, not causing any of them to awaken the dead. Valie pulled the iron chain and the gate blocking the next hall was lifted.

The trio crept into a large room filled with coffins. Suddenly, the lids of the coffins came off, one by one. Each draugr, some armored and some not, leapt out of their resting chambers, swords at the ready. Valelia, Mercer, and Sarila all raised their weapons, charging into battle. Mercer and Valelia were able-bodied enough to hold their own, but Sarila was too fragile to take on many enemies at once. She was soon cornered and overwhelmed by the draugr, who snarled and growled at the poor girl. Sarila breathed deep breaths, each one shakier than the last. At the last second, she ducked away from a draugr's axe and dove under some fallen stones. She crawled under the rubble, making her way to the other side, which was clear of draugr.

One of the undead had seen Sarila delve beneath the fallen stones, and crawled behind her. The draugr grabbed her leg, startling Sarila. She kicked at the monster several times, but it refused to let her leg go. She continued to kick the draugr wherever she could, and eventually ripped its decaying arm from the socket. The draugr, seemingly angered by the loss of his bony arm, growled louder and crawled in after Sarila. Sarila, unable to turn around, reached behind her and thrust her ebony dagger into the draugr's eye, silencing him. Sarila finished crawling through the fallen stones and found herself face to face with another draugr, who grabbed her arm. Sarila gasped in surprise and reflexively sliced clean through the bone of his arm, which fell to the ground and shriveled into dust.

The draugr lunged forward and brought his axe down on Sarila, who raised her dagger just in time. She roughly shoved the draugr to the ground and reached behind her, taking her shield from its place on her back. Sarila hadn't prepared herself to lift the heavy weight of the shield in her arm again, and instead stumbled forward, dropping the shield and crushing the draugr's head as he tried to get up. Sarila heard another faint growl from behind her and turned around just in time to block another sword attack with her dagger. This particular draugr was so strong, however, that he pushed Sarila to the ground, falling on top of her. Sarila struggled and gasped for air as she was crushed by the undead Nord's weight. He did not relent in his attack and continued to struggle against her dagger with his sword.

The draugr's head had unexpectedly fallen off, rolling a short distance away from Sarila, who pushed his corpse off her body. She found herself being yanked upwards, and thinking it was another draugr, Sarila struggled relentlessly and squirmed to escape, wailing like a banshee. "Enough! ENOUGH!" Mercer shouted, continuing to restrain Sarila. "This is the thanks I get for saving your life! Don't let it happen again!" Mercer released Sarila, shoving her roughly towards Valelia, who caught her with open arms.

Sarila embraced Valie in a hug, and the older woman gently stroked her hair. "Ye did a good job, Sarila. Ye held yer own against a good number of them." Valie whispered, calming her down. "Why don't ye hang back for a moment and get yerself calmed down? Mercer and I will head into the next chamber and clear things out." Sarila didn't need to be told twice, and nodded.

Valie and Mercer headed into the next chamber, and Sarila looked at all the draugr that had been slaughtered. She walked over to the draugr whose skull had been accidentally crushed by her shield. "I don't think I want to be touching _that_ again." Sarila remarked in disgust, looking at the shield embedded in the draugr's smashed skull.

Sarila rejoined Valelia and Mercer a few minutes later. The duo had managed to clear the next chamber, and before long, they found themselves before a large puzzle door. Sarila gazed in awe. The ancient Nords, she thought, were a cunning people. Mercer stepped up to the puzzle door. "Oh, boy. Here we go again." Valelia muttered. "Ah, it's one of the infamous Nordic puzzle doors. How quaint." Mercer acknowledged aloud. Sarila rolled her eyes and held back a sigh. Mercer certainly had a knack for stating the obvious. "Without the matching claw, they're normally impossible to open, and since I'm certain Karliah already did away with it, we're on our own." Mercer paused, observing Valie and Sarila's reactions.

"Fortunately, these doors have a weakness if you know how to exploit it. Quite simple, really." Mercer stepped closer to the lock and inserted a strange key Sarila didn't recognize into the keyhole. Mercer picked the lock in two seconds, and the puzzle door slowly came down to reveal a massive room, light and snow creeping in through the ceiling. "Karliah's close. I'm certain of it. Now, let's get moving." Mercer urged.

It was clear to Sarila and Valelia that Mercer wasn't going to enter before they did. Sarila's curious eyes darted around the enormous chamber, taking in as many details as they could. She heard a slight stretching sound, a sound akin to a drawstring of a bow. "Sarila!" Valie shouted. "NO!" Sarila was shoved into a wall, hitting her head hard against the stone. Sarila let out a gasp of pain, followed by a low groan that shook her body as she fell to the hard ground. Her head was warmed by her own blood, and she barely managed to roll onto her side.

There, where she had just been standing, lay Valelia Sharp-Sun with an arrow lodged in her throat.

 _Valelia…_

It had clicked in Sarila's brain. Valelia hadn't attacked her. She had _saved_ her.

 _Oh, Gods…Valelia…_

Sarila felt tears build up in her eyes from the pain in her head and body, and the pain of seeing her friend gurgling blood as she weakly moved her arms around, trying to reach the arrow.

 _She's dying. Valelia Sharp-Sun is DYING._

Sarila closed her eyes for a moment when the gurgling grew quieter, and was replaced by footsteps. Her vision was blurry, but she could make out two figures; Mercer Frey, and…

…Karliah.

Karliah. The woman who killed Gallus. The woman who threatened to tear the Thieves' Guild apart.

The woman who killed her friend.

Had Sarila not been incapacitated by the blow to her head, she would have charged Karliah immediately. Instead, all she could do was writhe in pain and watch helplessly as Karliah and Mercer approached each other.

"Do you honestly think your arrow will reach me before my blade finds your heart?" Mercer spat, ignoring Valelia and Sarila, who lay injured and bleeding.

"Give me a reason to try." Karliah bit back through gritted teeth, her grip on her bow tightening.

"You're a clever girl, Karliah. Buying Goldenglow Estate and funding Honningbrew Meadery was inspired." Mercer sheathed his weapon, not taking his eyes off the Dunmer woman before him.

"'To ensure an enemy's defeat, you must first undermine his allies.'" Karliah quoted as she lowered her bow, a strange sadness in her voice that was not evident before. "It was the first lesson Gallus taught us." She added, her voice breaking slightly. Mercer snorted. "You always were a quick study." He smirked. "Not quick enough, otherwise Gallus would still be alive." Karliah growled.

 _No._

 _NO._

Sarila gently shook her bleeding head as she lay on the ground. "No…no…..no…" She slurred, drool dripping from her mouth.

"Gallus had his wealth and he had you. All he had to do was look the other way." Mercer snarled.

 _Gods, DAMN him! Mercer Frey did it! HE killed Gallus!_

Sarila could barely make out the gleaming tear that had made its way to Karliah's eye. "Did you forget the Oath we took as Nightingales? Did you expect him to simply ignore your methods?" She coolly replied, not showing the entirety of her sadness.

Mercer, however, had had enough. "Enough of this mindless banter!" He drew his dwarven sword. "Come, Karliah, it's time for you and Gallus to become reunited!" Mercer yelled, holding his sword up proudly. "Ru…run…ruuuuun…" Sarila slurred to Karliah, though she doubted the Dunmer could hear her. Karliah sighed, closing her violet eyes, and lifted something up to her face. Sarila's vision grew even more distorted and blurry by the minute, though she knew Karliah was downing a potion of some kind. In a split second, Karliah vanished into thin air, made invisible by the effects of the potion.

"I'm no fool, Mercer. Crossing blades with you would be a death sentence. But I can promise the next time we meet, it will be your undoing." Karliah vowed, her voice growing eerily low as she spoke to last two words.

Mercer sauntered over to Valelia, whose gurgles of anguish had grown quieter than a whisper. The Breton man smiled sadistically. "How interesting." He crooned. "It appears Gallus's history has repeated itself. Karliah has provided me with the means to be rid of you, and this ancient tomb becomes your final resting place." He evilly chuckled, but his smirk returned a moment later as he readied himself to speak again. "But do you know what intrigues me the most? The fact that this was all possible because of you." He grinned, but deadpanned a moment later as he drew his dwarven sword. "Farewell, _lass._ I'll be sure to give your sweet, sweet Brynjolf your regards." Mercer approached Valelia, his sword firmly in his grasp.

 _No! Gods above, have MERCY!_

Sarila weakly raised her hand in protest, but lowered it once she grew dizzy again. All she could do was watch in horror as Mercer plunged his sword deep inside Valie's chest, the sickening slice echoing throughout the chamber. Mercer's sword left her body as quick as it entered, and he turned to Sarila.

 _Oh no._

Mercer Frey, the man who had killed Gallus, leader of the Thieves' Guild, and Valelia Sharp-Sun, the brave and true Dragonborn, was now going to kill Sarila.

The Breton man slowly approached Sarila, and he sheathed his sword, much to the woman's surprise. "Now, I know you heard everything. Don't lie to me; it won't work. However, I know that you won't survive long enough to even get out of this place by yourself, let alone back to the Guild. From what I've seen, you wouldn't even be able to survive long enough to get back even if you didn't have a head wound. I'm feeling rather generous today, and I've got a business proposition that you just CAN'T refuse." Mercer began, pulling leather strips from his pockets.

Mercer grasped Sarila's shoulders and sat her upright, ignoring Sarila's audible groans of pain and protest. He pulled her arms behind her back and bound her wrists with the leather, making sure to tie the knots extra tight. He placed his hands beneath her arms and hoisted her up. Sarila uneasily got back on her feet, her head spinning and her wound bleeding even more. "Oh, Shadows preserve me…it would just be easier to carry you. Forget it! You're coming with me whether you like it or not." Mercer growled, picking up a chunk of stone from the ground. Sarila thought of every name she could cry out to, though it would do her little good. "Mar…curio…help…" She weakly coughed. Mercer held the rock firmly in his hand. "Va…Valie!" Sarila cried, the rock making impact with her head a moment later.

Crimson blood spilled onto the ground. Sarila wasn't dead, though if Mercer had hit her harder, she certainly would be. Sarila once again collapsed, this time unconscious, and Mercer lifted her in his arms as he strode out of Snow Veil Sanctum.


	44. Survival

"Easy, easy. Don't get up so quickly. How are you feeling?" A soothing voice called out.

Valelia's icy eyes rapidly searched the area as she shot upwards. She groaned from the pain in her chest and throat. She looked downwards, and on her chest was a brutal slice. It had been stitched and cleaned, courtesy of her mysterious savior. Valelia looked upward to see that her savior was none other than…

…Karliah.

"Wait a minute…ye shot me!" Valie exclaimed, pointing to her throat. Karliah shook her head. "No, I saved your life." Valelia tilted her head in confusion, prompting the Dunmer to begin an explanation. "My arrow was tipped with a unique paralytic poison. It slowed your heart and kept you from bleeding out. Had I intended to kill you…we wouldn't be having this conversation." "Well…in case ye didn't know…my name is Valelia Sharp-Sun." Valie introduced herself.

Valelia looked Karliah up and down. Karliah was shorter than she was, which was normal for a Dunmer. Her skin was a bluish-grey, and she wore Thieves' Guild armor. All Dark Elves had red, glowing eyes, though Karliah did not. Her eyes were a glowing shade of violet, even more so than Sarila's eyes.

"But…why…why did ye save me?" Valelia bewilderedly asked. "My original intention was to use that arrow on Mercer, but I never had a clear shot. I made a split second decision to get your friend out of the way, though _you_ took the arrow for her, and it prevented your death." Valelia felt a sharp stab of shock run through her.

"Sarila! Where is she? Did he kill her?!" Valelia demanded. Karliah shook her head. "No. But he carried her away with him. He mentioned something about a 'business proposition'. He bound her wrists, knocked her out, and carried her away." "Do ye have any idea where he might be headed?"

Karliah sighed and closed her eyes. "No. I wish I knew. All I had hoped was to capture Mercer alive." She mumbled. "I can understand why." Valelia softly comforted. Karliah opened her eyes again and a fraction of a smile appeared on her face. "Before you three arrived, I recovered a journal from Gallus's remains. I suspect the information we need is written inside." Valelia knew immediately there was going to be another problem. "And the bad news?" "The journal is written in some sort of language I've never seen before." Karliah sheepishly added.

"That's not as bad as I thought. Perhaps it could be translated." Valie suggested. Karliah's eyes widened and a large smile appeared on her face. "Enthir…Gallus's friend at the College of Winterhold…of course!" Karliah beamed. "It's the only outsider Gallus trusted with the knowledge of his Nightingale identity." She quickly added. "But lass…what's a 'Nightingale'?" Valie asked in confusion.

"There were three of us. Myself, Gallus, and Mercer. We were an anonymous splinter of the Thieves' Guild in Riften. Perhaps I'll tell you more about it later. Right now, you need to head for Winterhold with the journal and get the translation. Here, take these as well, they may prove useful for your journey." Karliah handed Gallus's encoded journal to Valie, along with several potions. "I cannot thank ye enough, Karliah. But there's still another issue at hand. Sarila…she has a family of sorts. A brother, a friend, an adopted little girl, and…and a lover. They're going to wonder why she hasn't returned home, and they might get worried. If ye could round them up, they might be able to help us." Valelia requested. Karliah thought for a moment. "Alright. Tell me where they are, and I'll find them as quick as possible."

"According to Sarila, her brother lives in an old fortress with his friends. He's a red-haired Nord named Ysgrig. The rest of her family lives in Riften, so you'll have to tread carefully. Sarila mentioned that they lived in the Bee and Barb. Lyvette is her adopted daughter. She's the ebony-haired little girl. Her friend, Kharjo, is a Khajiit, so he shouldn't be hard to spot." Valelia paused. "Lastly, there's her lover…Marcurio. He claims to be a 'master of the arcane arts'. He's an Imperial in brownish-beige robes, and he has black hair which is up in a ponytail. If you don't see him, you'll _hear_ him for sure." Valelia explained.

"I'll ride my horse down to The Rift and round them up as quick as I can. Thank you, Valelia." Karliah smiled. "Errrr…about yer horse…" Valelia gestured over to the dead horse Mercer had slaughtered. Karliah gave a frustrated sigh. "I'll stop by Windhelm and get another horse. Maybe I'll spot Mercer around there somewhere. Goodbye, Valelia. Safe travels." Karliah dashed off into the blizzard towards Windhelm.

Valelia squinted and shielded her eyes from the snow. She could make out the outlines of the College, so she at least knew which direction Winterhold was. She knew not who this Enthir fellow was, but if he could help solve the mystery at hand, Valelia respected him. "And so…" Valelia mumbled to herself. "…it begins."


	45. Race To Riften

"Mattha, Chalvia was asking for you earlier. She's in her room; you'd best head there now." Qattindra told Mattha, who was sitting at the table, reading a book. Mattha hummed in response, closing her book and carrying it with her to Chalvia's room.

Qattindra turned to Ysgrig. "How's Chalvia been doing? Do you think you both will be ready to have your child when the time comes?" She asked. Ysgrig grinned confidently. "I know we will. I'll die before I let something happen to my child. I know Chalvia will be an excellent mother, and I'll always care for our child as well, and I'm certain Sarila would, too."

Qattindra smiled and nodded. "It certainly is a miracle that we found her in the forest that day. Had Reea'th not spotted Sarila and her friends…well, it's just lucky he has such observant eyes." "That certainly is true. Sometimes, I dream of what it must have been like for Sarila to grow up in the forest with that woman, Ytri. I can barely imagine the hardships the two must have faced."

"You and Chalvia had to do quite a bit of maturing as well, if I'm correct in assuming. I feel lucky to have lost my parents in my teenage years rather than as a child. I'm sure Mattha would say the same." Qattindra added. "That certainly was an advantage. I can hardly imagine how long Caehir was on his own before Chalvia and I found him in a tree one day." Ysgrig replied, zoning out.

 _"Do you really have to kill that rabbit? It's so cute and fluffy!" Chalvia whined, pouting at Ysgrig. Ysgrig sighed, remembering the time he had upset Sarila by slaughtering the rabbit. "I have to. Chalvia, we're both REALLY hungry, and we can't go much longer without food. We have maybe enough for five days, but that's it." Ysgrig explained, palming the shard of glass he had found ten months ago when Chalvia had been attacked. He decided to use his toy sword as little as possible; it was dangerously close to breaking._

 _Chalvia frowned, but nodded in understanding. "Okay…I'll go prepare the base broth for the rabbit when you catch it. Be careful, Ysgrig." Chalvia added, giving a small smile to Ysgrig. She quickly averted her eyes and walked back into their shack._

 _Ysgrig was about to head out, but he immediately stopped when he heard the door open a second time. Chalvia walked out with her sword and smiled sheepishly. "I'll brew the broth when we catch the rabbit. No use if we don't catch it in the first place, I suppose. And besides, two heads are better than one." She awkwardly grinned, shuffling towards the redheaded boy._

 _Ysgrig smiled at his friend, and the two split up. Ysgrig kept his eyes alert, and looked for the rabbit's tracks in the dirt. He had hoped to find deer tracks, though kept focus on the rabbit. Ysgrig had honed his hunting and gathering skills, and was quick and agile. His sharp hearing had picked up a sound, and he swiftly but quietly headed off into the direction of whence it came._

 _Ten minutes and a quick stab later, Ysgrig happily carried the large rabbit by its feet, letting the blood drain out from the stab in its neck. "Ysgrig! Come quick!" A voice cried out off in the distance. "Chalvia?" Ysgrig called. He dashed over to where he heard Chalvia. The Redguard girl was standing at the base of a tree, looking up into the leaves. "What is it, Chalvia?" "Please come down from there, you might fall and get hurt!" Chalvia called up to the tree. Ysgrig was confused, but heard movement in the tree. He looked up to see a Bosmer boy. The fellow looked to be a good three inches shorter than he and Chalvia. He had long, chestnut hair and dark brown eyes. "I…I…shouldn't….I…" The boy shyly replied, not budging from the branch he sat upon._

 _"Please come down, we're not going to hurt you." Ysgrig requested as politely as possible. "I can't. Mama and papa told me the trees were safe…that the trees would protect me when they died…that the trees would protect me when I have no family…I have to listen to my mama and my papa…please…" The boy trailed off, his upper lip quivering. Chalvia gave the boy a sympathetic look before turning to Ysgrig. "He's like us. He's an orphan." She whispered._

 _Ysgrig felt bad for the Bosmer. He looked back up the tree and gave a warm smile. "We can be your family. You can come back to our shack with us, and we'll all be happy together." Ysgrig graciously invited. "I…" Ysgrig and Chalvia began to doubt the boy would come with them, but were surprised a moment later. "I'd like that." He replied, a small smile tugging on the corners of his lips. "But how will I get down?" He asked._

 _Ysgrig and Chalvia surveyed the area until Chalvia hatched an idea. "Maybe we could soften your fall. There are lots of leaves around here, and if we pile them high enough, they'd be really soft to fall on." Chalvia turned to Ysgrig. "Ysgrig, you should go place the rabbit in the cooking pot, and then get the broom from under my bed. I'll see if I can gather some of the leaves in one spot for him to fall on."_

 _Ysgrig returned to the shack, dropped the rabbit into the pot, and returned to Chalvia and the Bosmer with the broom. Chalvia took the broom and began to sweep all the leaves into a pile. "Caehir." The boy stated, prompting Ysgrig to look up at him. "What?" "Caehir. That's…that's my name. Caehir."_

 _"Nice to meet you, Caehir." Ysgrig smiled, glad that the boy was coming around. "My name is Ysgrig, and that's Chalvia." Ysgrig pointed to Chalvia, who had swept the leaves into a large pile for Caehir to jump down into. "Nice to meet you!" Chalvia grinned, giving him a salute. "It's safe to come down, now. Jump!" She laughed._

 _Caehir grinned and looked down at the pile of leaves. He slowly stood up on the branch and leapt off. The leaves flew everywhere once Caehir safely landed. The three children laughed as the leaves rained upon them in a shower of red, orange, and brownish-gold._

 _That afternoon, the three ate the rabbit stew that Chalvia had prepared. Ysgrig dropped his spoon when he realized there was a problem. "There are only two beds, where will Caehir sleep?" He asked. "That's okay! He can take my bed." Chalvia replied. "But Chalvia, where will YOU sleep?" Ysgrig asked._

 _"Goodnight, Ysgrig!" Chalvia grinned, climbing into bed with Ysgrig. "Good…goodnight, Chalvia." He awkwardly replied, rolling over to avoid facing Chalvia. Caehir was already fast asleep, a smile evident on his face as he slept peacefully for the first time since his parents died._

"Ysgrig! You're needed outside NOW!" Reea'th yelled from the main hallway, bringing Ysgrig out of his flashback. Qattindra and Ysgrig's blood froze, and the two dashed into the main hallway and out the door.

"Is this Ysgrig?" The Dunmer woman asked, facing Ysgrig as she sat on her horse. Reea'th nodded, exchanging fretful glances with Caehir. "Yes, I'm Ysgrig. What has happened? Who are you?"

"There's not much time to explain. My name is Karliah, and you must come with me right away. Valelia sent me. Sarila has been kidnapped." Ysgrig's heart sank, and Qattindra, Caehir, and Reea'th were stunned. Ysgrig immediately ran up to the horse and hopped on its back behind Karliah. "Ysgrig! You need your sword!" Qattindra called. "Here, I managed to pick it up before I ran to call Ysgrig." Reea'th pulled Ysgrig's sword from his sheath and handed it to him. "Ysgrig, please be safe!" Caehir called to Ysgrig as he and Karliah rode to Riften.


	46. A Rock And A Hard Place

Ysgrig held on for dear life as the horse galloped through the forests of The Rift, narrowly dodging trees and rocks as it swiftly powered through the wilds. "Karliah, who has kidnapped my sister?" Ysgrig asked, fury bubbling up into his heart at the thought of his sister's life at risk.

Karliah frowned, though Ysgrig did not see it. "The one man I wish to capture alive. Mercer Frey." She answered, tightening her grip on the reins of the horse. "Why capture him alive? Why not slaughter him?" Ysgrig asked, his anger beginning to prevail. "Mercer needs to be brought before the Guild for what he has done. You do not know the full story, but…he killed our previous Guild master, Gallus Desidenius, and framed me. He has made several attempts on my life, he has stolen from the Guild, stolen the one thing we on our _lives_ _swore_ to protect. He has tried to kill Valelia, and he has kidnapped Sarila. We must capture him alive, and then we may find a suitable punishment for his sins."

"The Thieves' Guild? Let me help. My father had a contact in the Thieves' Guild, and I wish to be of any help I can." Ysgrig eagerly offered. "That is kind of you to offer, Ysgrig, but we must first trust in Valelia to do her part. I had recovered Gallus' journal from his remains, though his entries are written in a language I had never seen before. Valelia is going to speak with a close friend to get the journal transcribed, and see if we can recover any clues on what Mercer could be plotting, and possibly where he might be headed with your sister." Karliah explained.

Ysgrig hated the thought of _his sister_ in the clutches of someone so evil. Her life, he thought, could be at risk. "Are you absolutely certain you don't know where this Mercer bastard could be going? My sister could be alive, or dead, or worse, and I don't know." Ysgrig desperately inquired, hoping for even a sliver of hope. Karliah sighed. "No. I don't. All Mercer seems to do is just…steal. He's a thief, of course, and that's his job, but…he steals loved ones from their families. Gallus and I were…close." She blushed at her confession.

"You and he were…lovers?" Ysgrig asked. "Yes." She paused and cleared her throat. "Gallus once said he felt comfortable around me; able to let his guard down. I can't help but think that I'm responsible for what happened to him." She inhaled deeply, loosening her tight grip on the reins. "Mercer lied to the Guild, branded me a murderer and slandered my name across his network of contacts. For twenty five years I ran, never sleeping in the same place twice, and carefully covering my tracks. Mercer doesn't need to die…he needs to feel the cold sting of fate as his life crumbles in front of his and he's hunted by the Guild." Karliah spat.

It was clear to Ysgrig that Karliah was out for vengeance. "You may not have a choice next time. If he endangers my sister, I will not hesitate to put him in the ground." Ysgrig sternly remarked. "I can promise you if it comes to that, and my back is to the wall, I won't hesitate either. Mark my words." Karliah promised. "For now, we need to tell Sarila's friend, daughter, and lover about her kidnapping. They need to know, or else they'll be wondering why she hasn't returned." Karliah added.

Ysgrig made a mental note of Karliah's use of the word "lover" to describe Marcurio. "I think that would be best. Just…we must be gentle when we tell her girl. There's no telling what will happen when we break the news." Ysgrig instructed, brushing a tuft of his red hair that was overdue for a cut out of his eyes.

The duo arrived at the Riften stables just as the moon had risen high in the sky. Karliah hid her face with her hood in case anyone from the Thieves' Guild was out and about for night burglaries. The two made their way to the Bee and Barb. Marcurio and Kharjo were sitting at the bar, sipping wine and eating bread and cheese. Lyvette had gone to bed two hours earlier, and the two were enjoying some peace and quiet. Ysgrig regretted having to interrupt the only moment of peace the two had had all day.

Kharjo was the first to notice Ysgrig and Karliah, who had taken off her hood. "Ah, Ysgrig! You have returned…with a friend?" He half-asked, half-acknowledged. Marcurio turned to face the two briefly before returning to sip his ale. Ysgrig was mentally trying to figure out how to tell the duo about Sarila's kidnapping, but Karliah wanted to be brief.

"Sarila's been kidnapped."

Kharjo nearly choked on his bread and Marcurio spat out his ale. "DAMN IT, MARCURIO!" Keerava loudly swore, ale dripping from her face onto her dress. She reached for a tankard of water and rinsed her eyes out, shouting obscenities at Marcurio, who was still recovering from the shock.

"Who took her, Ysgrig? Who has Sarila?" Marcurio asked, trying to stay as calm and patient as possible. "Mercer. Mercer Frey." He answered. "Wait…Mercer…isn't he the leader of the Thieves' Guild? Why would he kidnap his own guild member?" Marcurio asked. Ysgrig shrugged and turned to Karliah. Karliah took one look at each man's face and saw nothing but worry and fear. She felt pain fill her heart, for she had no answer that would ease things. "Gods know why. I'm going to meet up with Valelia in Winterhold and see if she's found any clues. Ysgrig, you'll need to stay here for now. I'll gather you all up when we find Mercer, and we'll all capture him together." Karliah pulled her hood back over her head and headed out into the mist-clouded night.

Sarila awoke to a throbbing pain in her head. Her eyes were adjusting to the light of the torch in the room she was in. She went to put a hand on her aching head, but found that her wrists were still bound behind her back. There was a gruff-looking Orc sitting in a chair next to her. He noticed Sarila had awoken, and left the room briefly, closing the wooden door behind him.

Sarila wanted to scream, but she was gagged. Her throat was dry from lack of water, and her stomach growled with intense hunger. The door opened again a moment later, though this time, it was Mercer who entered. "Ah, you're not dead. I was almost excited, too." Mercer sneered, crossing his arms. He got down on his knees and pulled a knife from his sheath.

 _No! Please!_

Sarila feared for her life and looked pleadingly into Mercer's unforgiving eyes. "I'm going to remove your gag. You will not scream, shout, or yell, or I will not hesitate to plunge this knife into your skull. Do you understand?" He sternly asked. Sarila remained silent, her breath quickening. "Do you understand?!" He repeated, roughly slapping Sarila across her scarred cheek, earning a whimper of pain. Sarila ignored the stinging in her cheek and nodded, tears threatening to spill from her violet eyes.

Mercer removed her gag, and Sarila felt a wave of relief rush through her throat. "Where…where am I?" She asked, her voice dry and crackly from the lack of fluid. "You're in Riften. This is my house, Riftweald Manor. Isn't it lovely?" Mercer smirked, sheathing his knife. "I…yes…" Sarila answered, hoping to avoid another slap for remaining silent.

Mercer's smirk disappeared, and was replaced by his usual frown. "Alright, girl. Let me cut to the chase. You've shown me on several occasions that you're quite gifted in speechcraft. I hate to admit it, but I was rather impressed by how you convinced Gulum-Ei, one of the most stubborn, slimy bastards out there, to give you the information so quickly. Your honeyed words could be of use to me, which is why I'm going to be making you my business partner. You could create the most cunning ruse known to mankind and create foolproof covers for us both. I would do all the breaking, entering, and intimidating, and we'd be unstoppable." He explained, pacing back and forth.

"So, what do you say? Do you accept my business proposition?" Mercer unsheathed his dwarven sword, caressing the hilt in his muscular hands. Sarila gulped. _Sounds like I don't have much of a choice._

"I…I accept." She answered. "Good. I was beginning to think I'd have to _cut_ you out of this whole plan." He thrust his sword just an inch away from Sarila's face, chuckling when she flinched. "But all is well. You may go back to sleep." Mercer got back down on his knees and pulled a bottle from his pocket. He uncorked it and firmly grasped the back of Sarila's head.

Sarila refused to open her mouth. Whatever was in the bottle, Sarila wasn't interested in drinking. Mercer released his grip on her head and instead hit her in the back of the head. The combined pain of the blow to her head and her head injury caused Sarila to groan in pain. Mercer quickly seized this opportunity and poured the contents of the potion down Sarila's throat.

Mercer stood up once more and tossed the empty potion bottle, making sure to hit Sarila in the head with it. Sarila's vision once again grew distorted, and she slowly drifted out of consciousness as Mercer left the room and locked the door behind him.


	47. Exposed

"Gods…damn that stubborn wizard." Valelia cursed, pouring ice-cold water on her burned face. She had barely escaped Calcelmo's laboratory alive, what with all the traps, trinkets, oddities, and flames. What mattered, she thought, was that the rubbing of the Falmer language had been made, and Enthir could decipher Gallus's journal.

Valie hadn't kept her sword completely clean, or clean at all, for that matter. In the laboratory and tower, several mercenaries had been on patrol. One had spotted her, but as soon as he drew his sword, a dagger had made its way to his face. The others hadn't seen her, but watched their fellow mercenary go down in a shower of blood, and they all drew their weapons. "Check the shadows. Our attacker is bound to be lurking about." One Redguard man had commanded, before he too found himself with an arrow buried in his right eye socket.

When Valelia had made it to the tower, she had taken the rubbing, though was nearly caught by Captain Aquilius and Aicantar, Calcelmo's nephew, and their cronies. She had to sneak past all four men, though Aicantar had turned around at the most inopportune time. Valelia cursed her luck, and slaughtered her third person for the day.

Now, she thought, was the time to recharge for the travel back to Winterhold. She knew that Mercer would try to escape, and she reminded herself that Sarila was with him. "I will be brief. Karliah needs me, and so does Sarila." She told herself, wiping the droplets of water from her face. She packed up her items, making sure she didn't leave anything behind in her room at the Silver-Blood Inn, and thanked Kleppr on her way out, tossing a small satchel of Septims to the innkeeper.

Valelia had told herself she would never buy a horse. They reminded her too much of her family farm back in Bruma. She shook the thoughts of home away and handed fifty Septims to the carriage driver. "To Winterhold please, my good lad." She politely requested, climbing in the carriage. The fellow nodded and firmly grasped the reins of the horse. Soon enough, the carriage made its way through the Reach.

Valelia's thoughts were interrupted by an arrow lodging itself in the seat next to her. Startled, she looked to where the arrow had come from, finding a lone Forsworn man. "Oh, for the love 'o Talos. I don't have time for yer tomfoolery." She grumbled, removing her bow from her knapsack. She pulled the arrow out of the wood with a grunt. She nocked the arrow, keeping a firm grasp on the bow as she pulled the drawstring back, aiming at her target. She closed one eye, leaving her dominant one open, and she took a deep breath in. She released the drawstring, and the arrow flew forward at the speed of light, flying through the Forsworn's skull. His brains flew from his head, and shattered bone fell to the ground with his body.

Valelia, satisfied with her work, placed her trusty bow back in her knapsack, folding her hands in her lap as she drifted off to sleep in the peacefully rocking carriage.

The carriage driver woke her up when they had reached Winterhold. Valelia couldn't tell if it were morning, noon, or night; the snow and thick clouds obstructed her view of the sky. She entered the Frozen Hearth Inn, the howling wind slamming the door behind her.

Enthir and Karliah awaited Valelia patiently in the cellar of the inn. "I've got the translation copy." Valelia beamed, handing the rubbing to Enthir, who observed it closely. "Excellent work, my friend. Now," He began, opening Gallus's journal. "Let's see what we can find."

After some digging, translating, and thumbing through pages in the journal, it was revealed that Mercer had been stealing the Guild's funds for years without anyone noticing. Karliah's breath was taken away at this confirmation, though she soon recomposed herself. "Anything else, Enthir? Anything about…the Nightingales?" Karliah asked, a hopeful gleam in her eyes. "Hmm…yes! Here it is." Enthir replied, pointing to a particular passage in the journal. Karliah felt her heart skip a beat, and a tiny smile appeared on the Dunmer's face. "The last few pages seem to describe 'the failure of the Nightingales', although it doesn't really go into great detail." Enthir replied. Karliah's smile had instantly vanished.

"Gallus also repeatedly mentions his strong belief that Mercer desecrated something known as the Twilight Sepulcher." He added, a look of confusion appearing on his face. Karliah's jaw was agape. "Shadows preserve us…" She gasped. 'So it's true…" "I'm not familiar with the Twilight Sepulcher. What is it? What's Mercer Frey done?" Enthir asked, a look akin to a blend of worry and sympathy making its way to his face. "I'm sorry, Enthir. I can't say." Karliah apologized, regretting her obligation to secrecy. "All that matters is we deliver your translation to the Guild immediately." She concluded as Enthir handed the rubbing and the deciphered journal to Karliah. "Farewell, Enthir…words can't express." She smiled warmly. Enthir grinned. "It's alright, Karliah. You don't have to say a word."

Valelia had been rather quiet throughout the meeting. Enthir approached her. "Listen, all I want is the truth to be revealed to the Guild. They respected Karliah, and she deserves better." Enthir requested. "Absolutely, Enthir. We both thank you for all your help." Valelia smiled, shaking Enthir's hand. The Bosmer man mischievously grinned. "If trying to rid yourself of stolen goods becomes a burden, and you find yourself in Winterhold, visit me at the college. I've been known to handle items of questionable interest from time to time and I'll see what I can do." Valelia nodded, still smiling.

Valie approached Karliah, who seemed to be processing everything she had just learned. She looked up when Valelia stood in front of her, looking at her with kind eyes. "We must hasten to Riften before Mercer can do any more damage to the Guild." She declared, straightening her posture. "Gallus's journal mentioned the 'Twilight Sepulcher.'" Valelia stated, curiosity pure etched on her face. Karliah sighed, but smiled warmly. "You've come this far, so I see no harm in concealing it any longer. The Twilight Sepulcher is the temple to Nocturnal. It's what the Nightingales are sworn to protect with their lives." She explained, studying the expressions on Valelia's face.

"But…why does it require that type 'o protection?" Valie inquired, tilting her head. "Everything that represents Nocturnal's influence is contained within the walls of the Sepulcher. Now it seems Mercer's broken his oath with Nocturnal and defiled the very thing he swore to protect." Karliah answered, sighing wistfully. "Thieves and temples…Gods above, lassie. All this is enough to make yer head spin." Valie acknowledged in awe. Karliah chuckled understandingly. "I felt the same way when Gallus first revealed these things to me. I think in given time, you'll understand what I mean." She concluded. "I think I'd understand much better if less mystery was involved." Valie added.

"As a Nightingale, I've been sworn to secrecy regarding the Sepulcher. I know the Guild doesn't do much to foster faith, but I'm going to have to ask that you continue to trust me." Karliah paused, waiting for Valelia's reaction. "Asking someone for trust is asking a lot these days. But, you've saved my life, brought me back from the brink of death, and revealed a side to Mercer that I never knew existed. I'll continue to support you for as long as it takes. Justice will be served." Valelia smiled warmly at Karliah. Karliah returned a shy smile, but her serious expression returned a moment later. "I'll make for Riften and scout the situation; see if I can discover what Mercer's up to. When you're ready, meet me at the Ragged Flagon. I've already informed Sarila's friends and family about her kidnapping, and several of them have agreed to help us pursue Mercer." Karliah added. Valelia nodded, and was about to walk up the stairs before Karliah stopped her. "In the mean time, I wanted you to have this." Karliah handed her a gorgeous silver blade with an ebony daedric-styled hilt. The red waves of magic running up and down the finely tempered blade indicated the presence of an enchantment. Valelia admired the fine craftsmanship of the blade and tucked it carefully in her sheath before looking back up at Karliah. "It belonged to Gallus, but given the circumstances, I think he'd approve." Karliah smiled, remembering her lover's handsome face when he wielded his sword for the first time.

"I'll be sure to put it to good use and make Gallus proud." Valie assured the Dunmer woman. A serious expression appeared on Karliah's face. "If the Guild isn't willing to listen to reason, you might have to." She grimly replied, and Valelia grimaced. Valelia shuddered at the thought of having to kill a fellow Guild member. There was Rune, who she had become good friends with. She and Sapphire had a shaky relationship at first, though Sapphire soon opened up to her about her family's tragic fate at the hands of bandits. Niruin had trained her in the fine art of marksmanship, and the two had bonded over that as well. And at last, she had… _Brynjolf._

 _Gods above._ Every time she thought of that man's handsome face, his emerald green eyes, or his gorgeous auburn locks, she Valelia felt her heart flutter. The mere mention of his name brought a tempest of red to her cheeks. Her heart ached at the thought of him now. Mercer had most likely slandered Valelia's name across the Guild as well, just as he had done to Karliah. Though Mercer thought she was dead, he had probably told the Guild that she had teamed up with Karliah attacked him.

Valelia hopped back in the carriage, handed another satchel of gold to the driver. "Riften, please." She quietly requested. The carriage shoved off through the bitter cold of Winterhold, not stopping along the way.

Karliah watched Valelia until she was out of sight. The Dunmer had hopped on her horse and smiled. Her mind was at ease. For the first time in twenty five years, things were looking up for Karliah. She hadn't had a friend in so long, no one to confide in, no one to talk to. She had made several deals with Aringoth, Sabjorn, and Gulum-Ei, though she would hardly consider those laggards her friends. That snotty, ill-mannered Aringoth bastard could drown in his honey for all she cared.

Valelia, she thought, was a true friend.

As true and valiant as Gallus Desidenius himself.


	48. Time, Tears, And Mead

Ysgrig had more mead than usual that night, but knew he needed to stay sober. It had been a little over a day since he and Karliah arrived and broken the news to Marcurio and Kharjo. He wanted Kharjo to tell Lyvette what had happened to Sarila, but the Khajiit had passed out on his bed after a long day of babysitting the girl. Ysgrig turned to Marcurio to ask him advice on the current situation at hand, but once he got an eyeful of the Imperial, he decided to leave him be. Marcurio was drunk off his ass, his eyes bloodshot and his speech slurred. Keerava refused to give him anymore alcohol to drink; for fear that the mage might drink himself to death.

While Marcurio stumbled around trying to discern right from left, Ysgrig walked upstairs to Sarila and Lyvette's room. He was tired beyond belief from worrying over his sister, and figured he could use her bed for the time being. He reached for the doorknob when he heard a quiet sound come from inside. He hesitated and put his ear to the door, listening intently. Soft sobs and muffled wails had prevailed in the tiny room.

Ysgrig opened the door, his heart heavy. Lyvette, he thought, somehow knew about Sarila.

"I knew it…I knew Sarila would get lost...just like mom and dad…" Lyvette never ceased her weeping as she mumbled the words to Ysgrig, who looked at the poor girl with sympathy on his face. "How did you know?" He gently asked, sitting on the side of Lyvette's bed. Lyvette sniffled and wiped her tear-streaked face off with the sleeve of her nightgown. "I dreamt it the other night. She was…she was in a room…and a mean man…the one from my other dream…he yelled at her…and he hurt her. He's such a…such a…" Lyvette searched for an appropriate insult. "Such a MEANIE!" She spat, tears spilling onto the bedsheets as she wept.

"It's okay, Lyvette. We're going to find her, and she'll be alright." Ysgrig promised, though he himself was unsure of his sister's fate. Lyvette stopped crying for a moment before the tears returned. "You don't know that." She whispered, picking up her doll and cradling it in her arms. Ysgrig was heartbroken. Lyvette was such a happy little girl, always bright and full of hope. Here she was now, despondent and doubtful. "No, I don't know that. But I _do_ know that Kharjo, Marcurio, and I will do our best to find her. We're going to meet with some people who want to capture the man who has Sarila, and we'll all work together."

Lyvette's tears slowly ceased, until all that remained were her sniffles. She wiped the last of her tears from her eyes and got out of bed. Ysgrig stayed in place, watching in curiosity as the girl dug around under her bed. She reemerged, holding a finely tempered elven dagger. "I…I took this from the blacksmith. You know, Balimund. From the Scorched Hammer." Lyvette confessed, shyly averting her eyes to look at the dagger.

Ysgrig wasn't sure whether to be surprised or unfazed. Sarila had done a lot of sneaking and stealing, and it was starting to rub off on Lyvette. "Will you teach me how? How to use it, I mean." Lyvette asked, looking up at him with her big, blue eyes. Ysgrig knew he couldn't say no; she had just lost the one parental figure she had. Besides, he thought, it could save the girl's life one day.

"Okay, but on one condition." Lyvette listened eagerly, her lips slowly curving upwards in a smile. Ysgrig continued. "Don't steal anything else, alright? You're not…it's not safe for a little girl. Sarila will teach you how when you're a little bit older. I promise." Ysgrig compromised. Lyvette nodded, eager to get to work in training with her dagger.

"First things first, you need to learn how to hold it." Ysgrig began, taking the elven dagger from Lyvette. "Now, pay attention. You need to hold it by the hilt, and only the hilt; you might accidentally cut yourself otherwise." Ysgrig instructed, demonstrating the proper position to hold the dagger. "Firmly grasp the hilt in your hand; you don't want it slipping out when you make an uppercut or slice." He added, handing the dagger to Lyvette. Lyvette obeyed, cautiously gliding her hands to the hilt of the dagger. "You're doing good so far. Tomorrow, Kharjo and I can take you out to the woods near the stables and you can take a few swings at the smaller trees we find. How does that sound?"

Lyvette bounced up and down with joy, quickly placing the dagger on her nightstand. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, Ysgrig! Thank you so much! This will be great! I just know it!" She squealed, tackling Ysgrig in a hug. He chuckled and patted the girl's head full of ebony hair. "For now, you ought to get some sleep. We _both_ ought to get some sleep. It's been a long day for me, and it's quite late." Ysgrig replied, walking over to his bed. Lyvette dove under her covers and snuggled up to her doll. Ysgrig smiled and rested his head on his pillow. "Tomorrow, we're going to get up at six, maybe seven in the morning and have an early breakfast. Keerava told me earlier that she's going to be serving…Lyvette?" Ysgrig poked his head up when Lyvette didn't respond.

The little girl's eyes were closed, and she took peaceful, even breaths as sleep took over her mind and body. Ysgrig smiled, and he too closed his emerald green eyes as he drifted off.

"Thash not fair! I wantsh another drink, lizard lady!" Marcurio slurred, pouting at Keerava.

Keerava sighed in frustration. "Talen, come help me! He hasn't stopped asking for more drinks all evening!" Talen-Jei approached Marcurio and looked him in the eyes. "Gods above, Keerava. How much did you give him?" He asked, noting the alcohol on Marcurio's breath. "I only sold him four bottles; he bought the rest off Vulwulf." Keerava answered, pointing towards Vulwulf Snow-Shod, whose greying beard was stained with Black-Briar Mead as he drank whatever alcohol Marcurio didn't buy.

"Damned Snow-Shod. Damned Marcurio. Don't worry, Keerava. At least the Imperial won't go hogging all the mead on a daily basis like Vulwulf." Talen-Jei reassured, keeping a close eye on Marcurio until the mage blindly stumbled out of the inn and into the night streets of Riften.


	49. All For Naught

"Get up. We're leaving."

The gruff voice that Sarila had come to hate brought her out of her fitful sleep. Though her eyes were open, she could see nothing; a black execution hood had been placed over Sarila's head and face. Her wrists were still firmly bound behind her back, the binds cutting into her soft, sensitive flesh.

Sarila gave a grunt of disdain when Mercer had kicked her in the back. "Get. Up." He hissed. Sarila reluctantly obeyed, her knees cracking with every movement she made. Mercer firmly grasped her shoulders and pushed her forward. Sarila felt around with her feet and made sure she wasn't tripping over any stray objects, and she made sure to be extra careful when she descended the stairs.

Mercer pushed Sarila out the door and commanded his mercenaries to bar it behind him. From the quiet in the streets, Sarila had figured out it was nighttime. Mercer was about to lead Sarila through the streets to the city gate, but paused when he heard someone approaching.

Marcurio, in his drunken stupor, aimlessly wandered the streets of Riften, stumbling towards two figures he'd seen in the dark of the night. Even though she had an execution hood over her face, Marcurio recognized Sarila. "Good evening, Sssharila. How'sh your evening been? Who'sh your friend you got r'here?" He slurred, grinning goofily as he looked at the pair. For a split second, Mercer thought he'd been caught red-handed, but realized that Marcurio was drunk. Sarila knew, too, but was desperate for assistance. "Marcurio! Help!" She cried, though neither Marcurio nor Mercer seemed to hear her.

Mercer knew that, if Marcurio sobered up, he could cause _big_ trouble. Mercer surveyed the area for guards, and found none in the proximity. "Say, friend, you feel like another round?" Mercer asked, giving the drunken Imperial a forced smile. Marcurio's grin widened as he nodded his head eagerly. Mercer reached into his pocket and pulled out the same poison he had used to knock Sarila into unconsciousness a few nights before. "Here you go! Bottoms up!" He wickedly grinned as Marcurio took the poison from him and quickly uncorked it. Marcurio wolfed the solution down and felt himself grow sleepy and more sluggish than he previously was. "Wow," he hiccupped. "Thash…good…" Marcurio dizzily wobbled, struggling to balance, before he collapsed in a puddle of his own drool.

Mercer smiled, quickly pushing the frightened and disheartened Sarila out the gate, bribing the guard at the entrance to keep quiet. Mercer knew that it would be too difficult to ride a horse to Irkngthand while watching out to make sure Sarila didn't go astray, and he knew that the carriage drivers were unreliable and chatty, and would certainly inform others of his appearance with Sarila.

Despite Sarila's protests and his aging muscles, Mercer began his trek to Irkngthand, tethering Sarila with a rope and leading her like a horse, removing her execution hood so she could at least see.

The next morning, Ysgrig awoke to Lyvette eagerly shaking him awake, pointing to the dagger on her nightstand as she repeatedly reminded him of their arranged dagger training that morning. Ysgrig quickly got dressed, awoke Kharjo, and the three headed down for breakfast. Keerava was in a better mood that morning, and served them all eggs and apples for breakfast.

The trio walked to the gate, and Lyvette was more excited than ever. Ysgrig found himself tripping over something in the street, and he regained his balance before he fell. "Mister Marky?" Lyvette squeaked, poking the object Ysgrig had tripped over. Ysgrig turned around and looked down to see Marcurio, lying face down in the street. "Is he alive?" Ysgrig asked Kharjo, who merely shrugged. "I do not know. It is likely he is only passed out. He certainly had too much mead and wine last night."

As if on cue, Marcurio began to awaken, groaning as he rolled onto his back. He put a hand to his head and slowly sat up. Lyvette giggled and helped him to his feet. Marcurio's eyes were still bloodshot, though it was clear he was sober. "Gods above, my head…remind me to never drink again. Not for the rest of my life." He groaned, steadying himself. "Easy there, Marcurio. Take it one step at a time." Ysgrig helped Marcurio find his balance.

Once Marcurio had steadied himself completely, he dashed to the rail overlooking the canal, vomiting everything he drank the previous night. Lyvette giggled and stuck her tongue out as Marcurio finished vomiting. The mage wiped his mouth with his robe's sleeve, before his eyes turned frantic. "Sarila was here last night. I swear, I saw her. She was…she was the same, but she wasn't the same, and she…she was here!" Marcurio convinced his three skeptical friends. Ysgrig sighed and shook his head. "No, Marcurio. Sarila wasn't here last night; you were drunk out of your mind. You had four bottles from Keerava, and Gods know how many of what you bought from Vulwulf. You're lucky you didn't drink yourself to death." Ysgrig replied.

Marcurio grumbled in defeat. He knew he was drunk; he wasn't denying that fact, but he _had_ seen Sarila. It wasn't a hallucination, he thought, it was too real to be a hallucination. Marcurio's stomach was still recovering and his head was still throbbing, but he accompanied Kharjo, Ysgrig, and Lyvette. He didn't know where they were going, but he didn't care. He'd seen out of the corner of his eye that Lyvette was carrying a gorgeous elven dagger quite similar to the one Balimund had been tempering at his forge the previous week. Perhaps, he thought, they were training her?

Ysgrig, Kharjo, and Lyvette were blissfully unaware that they had missed a rare chance at saving Sarila, though Marcurio knew that, deep down, Sarila had been there, and she was calling for _him._

Not Ysgrig.

Not Ytri.

Not her mother or father.

Just him.

Marcurio.

And Gods, did he feel good.


	50. The Vault

**A/N: Ooookay, guys! This is my last chapter for tonight. I'm tired, it's been a long day, and I have no energy. I have a big day at a carnival tomorrow, so I'd better get some rest while I can.**

 **As always, reviews are appreciated, so let me know how I'm doing! To the story!**

Valelia entered the Ragged Flagon, ignoring the glares that had been locked onto her as she strode to Karliah, who immediately approached her. Karliah had a slightly troubled look upon her face.

"I'm glad you're here. I think some of these people are beginning to suspect who I am." She whispered, no one looking away from the two. "Are you ready to face the Guild?" Karliah asked, and Valelia shuddered, closing her eyes. "What if Mercer's there? He'll kill us both." Valie replied. Karliah inhaled deeply. "Then we show them Gallus's journal and hope for the best." Karliah reassured. Valie nodded and sighed, her nerves easing up. "Aye. We have proof; and all the greedy, conniving bastard's got is his word." Valelia added, clenching her fists.

"Exactly. Remember, keep your eyes open. I'm not sure what to expect when we enter the cistern." Karliah warned, beginning to walk towards the cistern. "Oh, neither am I, lass. Neither am I." Valie mumbled, her voice wavering as she followed Karliah.

Slowly, Karliah approached the cistern door and placed a gloved hand on the knob.

With a creaking cry, the door opened.

Karliah slowly walked into the cistern, Valelia following closely behind.

Every member of the Thieves' Guild was gathered around the center of the cistern, weapons in their hands. They all glared at Karliah and Valelia. Even the young, innocent Rune gritted his teeth and clenched his fists.

Before them stood Vex and Delvin, weapons unsheathed and at the ready.

And in between them stood Brynjolf.

Brynjolf's eyes narrowed when he watched Karliah enter the cistern. When he saw Valelia behind her, his eyes widened again. Valie thought she saw a relieved glint in his beautiful eyes, but in the second she saw it, it had disappeared, and his horrible stare returned, his grip on his blade tightening.

He looked Valelia in the eyes. "You better have a damn good reason to be here with that murderer." He spat, his voice venomous and cold. Valie internally cringed. Her man's voice was devoid of love and caring he had previously shown her.

Karliah sensed the growing tension between Brynjolf and Valie and quickly decided to put a temporary stop to it. "Please, lower your weapons so we can speak. I have proof that you've all been misled!"

For a solid ten seconds, everyone was still.

No one moved, no one dared speak.

No one dared to even blink.

Finally, Brynjolf growled, sheathing his sword, much to Valelia's relief. "No tricks, Karliah, or I'll cut you down where you stand." He hissed, stepping forward. "Now, what's this so-called proof you speak of?" He asked, his voice slightly calmer than before, though not by much.

"I have Gallus's journal. I think you'll find its contents disturbing." Karliah handed the journal and obelisk rubbing to Brynjolf, who looked confused for a moment, but quickly realized the rubbing could translate that journal's contents.

As Brynjolf read each sentence in the journal, his eyes grew wider.

"No, it…it can't be." His lips quivered as he closed the book.

"This can't be true. I've known Mercer too long…" He trailed off.

Valelia looked at her lover with sympathy, but looked back at Karliah a moment later. "It's true, Brynjolf. Every word. Mercer's been stealing from the Guild for years, right under your noses." The Dunmer woman clarified.

Brynjolf couldn't believe it. He couldn't wrap his head around any of it. "There's only one way to find out if what the lass says is true. Delvin, I'll need you to open the Vault." Brynjolf urgently requested, desperation in his eyes. Delvin's eyes widened. "Wait just a blessed moment, Bryn. What's in that book? What did it say?" He asked, following Brynjolf as he walked intently towards the Vault door. Vex, Karliah, and Valie proceeded to follow Delvin and Brynjolf.

"It says Mercer's been stealing from our vault for years. Gallus was looking into it before he was murdered." Brynjolf numbly stated. Delvin was dumbfounded. "How can Mercer open up a vault that needs two keys? It's impossible. Could he pick his way in?" The Breton asked. Vex scoffed. "That door has the best puzzle locks money can buy. There's no way it can be picked open." She reasoned. Valelia shook her head. "No, lass. In Snow Veil Sanctum, Sarila and I saw him pick two puzzle doors open without the matching claw key." Valie told her. Vex pursed her lips.

"He didn't need to pick the lock." Karliah added, causing Delvin to look at her. "What's she on about?" He asked. Brynjolf ignored the Breton's question. "Use your key on the vault, Delvin. We'll open it up and find out the truth." Brynjolf ordered. Delvin shrugged and stepped up to the door, inserting the key and turning it. "I've used my key, but the vault's still locked up tighter than a drum. Now use yours." Brynjolf approached the door and successfully unlocked it with his key.

Behind the mysterious metal doors that had made their presence in the cistern clear for many years was an empty room, save for several dusty chests and tables. Brynjolf gasped in shock. "By the Eight! It's gone, everything's gone! Get in here, all of you!" He shouted. Vex, Delvin, Karliah, and Valelia rushed into the Vault. Delvin's lips quivered, and he looked around, astounded. "The gold…the jewels…it's all gone." He added. A low growl filled the room, and everyone turned to Vex, who whipped out her dagger. "That son of a bitch! I'll kill him!" She growled fiercely, blinded by rage. Brynjolf gritted his teeth, but calmed himself down. "Vex! Put it away…right now. We can't afford to lose our heads…we need to calm down and focus." He calmly reasoned, the fire in Vex's eyes cooling down.

Delvin nodded. "Do what he says, Vex. This isn't helpin' right now." He agreed. Vex grumbled and sheathed her dagger. "Fine. We do it your way. For now." She mumbled. Brynjolf gave a curt nod of approval to them both. "Delvin, Vex…watch the Flagon. If you see Mercer, come tell me right away." Brynjolf stormed away, but briefly looked over his shoulder at Valelia. "And…Valie. I'm going to need you to come with me. We have some things we need to discuss." He ordered, walking to Mercer's desk.

Valelia couldn't have been more relieved at that moment in time. All had gone according to plan, no blood was spilt, and Brynjolf could still tolerate her.

All she needed to do was slit that Mercer Frey bastard's throat and save Sarila.


	51. The Last Place In Skyrim

"So let me get this straight for a moment, lad. Ye want me to go into Mercer Frey's house and poke around? Are ye mad?" Valelia asked Brynjolf with a look of disapproval. Brynjolf sighed. "Aye. Mercer's house is the last place I'd ever want to have to send you, but we need whatever information you can find." Brynjolf replied, crossing his arms with a look of sympathy. Valie grumbled. "Am I going to have to kill that Vald fellow you mentioned, or is there another way?" She asked, looking at her recently cleaned sword in its sheath.

Brynjolf adopted a look of mischief. "You'll have to ask Vex. She's got the dirt on him. The two of them used to be rather close…if you catch my drift." Brynjolf winked. Valie grinned. "Oh, I catch yer drift, ye dirty bastard." She laughed, Brynjolf's smirk growing. He deadpanned a moment later. "But in all seriousness, Mercer is still out there, and we need to hurry if we're going to catch him. If he hasn't killed Sarila yet, he's bound to change his mind sooner or later about needing her for whatever trick he's got up his sleeve.

"Alright. I'll do some searching, and once I find whatever we need, I'll come runnin'." Valelia promised. Brynjolf gave her a nod. "Be safe, lass. As I mentioned before, this is the last place in Skyrim I'd want to send you. Just find a way in, get the information, and leave." Brynjolf instructed. "And before you ask, yes, you have permission to kill anyone that stands in your way." He added, eyeing her sword. Valelia nodded. "What do ye think is the best way to get into Riftweald Manor?" She inquired. "Good question. I've only set foot inside a few times myself and that was in Mercer's company." Brynjolf replied, remembering the times he visited Mercer's house, thinking he was visiting a friend. He felt stupid at how wrong he was.

"If you can get past Vald, your best bet might be the ramp to the second floor balcony in the backyard." He continued. "I don't suppose the ramp would be easy to access." Valie commented. Brynjolf shook his head. "No. It's some sort of crazy contraption Mercer commissioned for quick escapes, but I'd wager a well-placed shot at the ramp's mechanism would lower it in a hurry." He responded. "Aye. Sounds like those archery lessons with Niruin are about to be put to good use today." Valelia smiled, thanking her lucky stars for her Bosmer friend.

Valie gave one last smile at Brynjolf before walking towards the ladder that led to the secret door. "Careful at Mercer's place, I don't want to lose anyone else to that madman." Brynjolf called after her, swallowing heavily before he parted his lips to speak again. "Especially you, Valie." His voice had softened considerably. Valelia felt her heart jump for joy. He still loved her, even after they were at each other's throats just a mere ten minutes ago.

Valie turned around and ran to Brynjolf, throwing her arms around him. Brynjolf smiled, wrapping his arms firmly around the woman he had grown to love. "Gods, I love you, Brynjolf." She whispered against his auburn locks. "I love you too, lass. I loved you ever since I met you in the market that day." He breathed, stroking her braids.

The two slowly pulled apart, though Brynjolf firmly grasped Valelia's hands. Valie was caught up in his intense gaze, his emerald green eyes luring her closer to him until her mouth slanted over his. Brynjolf cupped her cheek, closing his eyes as he eased into the kiss. The two broke the kiss a moment later and Valelia walked back over to the ladder. She began to climb the ladder, stopping to turn around and look at Brynjolf. The two locked eye contact and smiled sweetly at one another before Valie turned back around and continued climbing.

After Valelia had gone, Karliah approached Brynjolf. "You'd best enjoy Valelia while you can. Gallus and I were lovers like you two before he was taken from me." She closed her eyes, wistfully remembering all the nights she and Gallus had spent breaking into buildings and clearing it of all valuables. She thought back to all the times Gallus had gently caressed her cheek with his hand, and whispered endless streams of affections to her. In her heart, Karliah was still Gallus's little Nightingale.

Brynjolf hadn't known of Gallus's romantic involvement with Karliah. He hadn't been alive long enough to personally know Gallus, but he had always followed his example and looked up to him, swearing to one day avenge his death. That day, he thought, was quickly approaching, and Gallus's death would be avenged.

"Oh, and one more thing." Karliah began, prompting Brynjolf to look at her once more. "I'm going to need to speak with you and Valelia when she returns. You both are going to need to hear what I have to say." The Dunmer woman declared, walking over to the table and sitting down. She folded her hands in her lap.

Brynjolf, she thought, was trustworthy. And, of course, Valelia had shown her loyalty and diligence, and was undoubtedly the epitome of what Karliah had in store for her.

Valelia and Brynjolf weren't ordinary thieves.

They were Nightingales in the making.


	52. Predator And Prey

"Alright, I think you're ready to move onto moving targets now, Lyvette." Ysgrig announced, capturing the child's attention.

"Really? No more swinging at trees?" She asked, delighted at his decision. Her little blue eyes darted around, observing the smiles on the faces of Kharjo, Ysgrig, and Marcurio. "That's right, kid! We're graduating you to animals." Marcurio grinned, walking over to ruffle the girl's ebony hair. "Like what kind?"

Before Marcurio could answer, Ysgrig spoke up. "Probably wild goats and foxes, or if there are any, maybe some small deer." He suggested. He knew of Lyvette's soft spot for rabbits, and wanted her to feel confident in her newfound skill without hesitating to make a kill. He turned to Kharjo. "Are there any animals around?" He asked.

Kharjo sniffed the air and nodded. "There is a deer nearby. Come. This one is sure of it." Kharjo began to trot towards the scent of the deer, Marcurio, Ysgrig, and Lyvette following close behind. Kharjo's ears twitched as if he heard something. He turned his head and stopped walking.

In the clearing, the sun shone brightly on a small deer. It appeared to be a doe; it had no antlers. Kharjo gestured to the deer, and his friends took notice. Ysgrig got on his knees so he was eye-level with Lyvette. "Alright, this is it. When you make your kill, push your dagger straight through the head, neck, or heart. Keep a tight grip on your dagger so you don't lose it if the deer gets away." Ysgrig instructed. Lyvette nodded and carefully, quietly crept up behind the deer.

The deer turned around when she heard Lyvette approaching and stupidly stayed in place to observe her. Lyvette used the deer's unawareness to her advantage and thrust her dagger through the deer's neck, giving a fierce cry as she forced the blade through the spinal cord. The deer gave a loud shriek and collapsed, dead by the young girl's dagger.

Lyvette retrieved her elven dagger and panted, doubling over to catch her breath, and the sound of clapping soon made its way to her ears. She beamed at the attention and praise she was receiving from her friends. "Excellent work, Lyvette!" Ysgrig cheered. "This one is very proud indeed. You have learned quickly, little one." Kharjo added.

"We can take it back to Miss Keerava. She might want to cook it for dinner." Lyvette suggested. Ysgrig nodded and smiled. "That's a very good idea, Lyvette. I'm sure she'd really appreciate it. Just wait until you tell her that you were the one who killed the deer." He grinned. Lyvette had never felt more accomplished in her life.

Kharjo's ears twitched, and he sniffed the air once more. "I sense something is near." "What is it?" Marcurio asked. "Another deer?" Kharjo shook his head. "No, no, it sounds like—" A loud hiss pierced the once calm clearing, startling everyone. A large frostbite spider scuttled towards the group and leapt into the air. The spider tackled Lyvette, baring his razor-sharp mandibles at the little girl. She screamed, dropping her dagger several feet away. "LYVETTE!" Marcurio and Ysgrig seemed to yell at the same time. The spider quickly brought his mandibles down to sink into the little girl's neck.

 _Thunk!_

Lyvette felt the weight on her body lighten, and she opened her eyes to see the spider beside her, dead. Kharjo pulled his sword from the spider's unmoving body and offered Lyvette his hand. Lyvette took one look at the thick layer of spider gore coated all over her and burst into tears.

Kharjo had carried Lyvette to a stream where she could wash her face and hands. Her dress was soaked with the spider's blood and guts that had oozed onto her when the sword pierced his back. While Lyvette was washing her face, Ysgrig approached Kharjo. "That was some quick thinking back there at the clearing." "No, no. It was nothing." Kharjo smiled. "You saved a girl's life. That's definitely something." Ysgrig grinned. "I am honestly glad I was able to kill the spider in time. I could not imagine living with myself if I had let her die." Kharjo replied, pushing thoughts of Lyvette's death out of his mind.

That night, Keerava had graciously accepted the meat from the deer. She was shocked that Lyvette had made the kill, and gave the girl a wholehearted hug. "You're becoming quite the young lady! Keep it up, and you'll be hunting mammoths one day!" Keerava encouraged the smiling little girl.

Lyvette had changed into a clean dress before she trotted up to bed. She held her doll close and told her all about how she had killed the deer before she was overtaken by sleep. When Ysgrig lay down in his bed that night, he could only pray that Valelia was getting clues to Sarila's whereabouts. He'd lost his sister for ten years, and he didn't want to lose her again for any amount of time.

Ysgrig had slept well that particular night. He dreamt that he'd found Sarila and taken her back to the home with Marcurio, Kharjo, and Lyvette. He dreamt of Mattha and Omir bickering as Caehir and Reea'th trained each other in combat. He dreamt of Sa'etha and Qattindra mixing tonics and poultices. He dreamt of Chalvia and her beautiful face.

He dreamt of Mercer Frey's head rolling away from his lifeless body.

He dreamt that it was he who had sent Mercer to the grave.


	53. No Time To Lose

**A/N: Hey, hey, whattup, my humans! I'm back with another chapter in the story! It's 2:24AM as I'm typing this, I have finals, so I'm sorry If I don't get much done! I've been really, really, REALLY busy lately studying, and was busy a few weeks ago because my birthday was May 30** **th** **. So, again, I'm sorry for not updating in a while, I'm still continuing, and let's get into the story, shall we?**

"Karliah needs us? What for?" Valelia asked.

"I've got no idea, lass. But we need to go quickly; we have no time to lose." Brynjolf answered, tucking a dagger in his sheath before walking to the ladder of the secret exit, Valie trotting quickly behind him.

Ysgrig was leaned over the railing in front of the Bee and Barb, absorbedly studying every ripple and wave in the water of the canal below. Marcurio was next to him, yammering on and on about his "adventures in the arcane arts", and Ysgrig pretended to listen, nodding and occasionally adding an "I see" or two into the conversation. Sometimes he wished the mage would just put a cork in it and let him think in peace.

Two figures made themselves clearly visible in the corner of Ysgrig's emerald eyes, and he quickly turned around. "Valelia, have you found any news on Sarila?" He immediately asked, ignoring Marcurio's story, much to the mage's annoyance. Valie nodded, her auburn braids bouncing up and down. "Aye. Turns out, Mercer's taking her to some Dwarven Ruins called 'Irkngthand'." Valelia informed him. "Are you off to catch him? Might we join?" Ysgrig asked eagerly, grabbing his mace in the sheath on his hip without knowing it. Valelia looked Ysgrig up and down before pursing her lips and shaking her head, and Ysgrig slowly frowned. "No. I'm sorry, Ysgrig, but if you died in those ruins, Sarila would never forgive me for taking you. She's your sister, for Talos' sake."

Ysgrig grew indignant. "You just proved my point. This is my _sister,_ damn it! I've got every reason to go into those ruins and help get her out, whether I live or die!" He growled, stomping his foot and walking a few steps away from the group. "Ysgrig. Come back here and let's talk this out." Marcurio called out to him. Ysgrig sighed and returned, running a tense hand through his auburn hair. "You're right. You're right. Apologies…I just got a bit overexcited." He quietly apologized. Valie thought for a moment and turned to Brynjolf, who hadn't uttered a single word in their entire conversation.

Brynjolf slowly nodded. "It couldn't hurt, lass. We'd need some extra men in case Mercer's got some tricks up his sleeve. I doubt you, me, and Karliah would be enough to take down Mercer." Brynjolf reasoned. Valelia nodded. "If you're absolutely certain ye want to come, you can. We're heading out about now. Brynjolf and I have some business to take care of with a contact. We'll try and meet ye on the road to Irkngthand."

Ysgrig nodded, thrill rushing through his veins. "Mark my words, I'll prove that you made the right decision. Thank you, thank you, thank you once more." Valie grinned and nodded in understanding, walking to the front gate with Brynjolf.

Ysgrig quickly turned to Marcurio. "We need to get ready. I think Kharjo would want to accompany us, and that Brynjolf fellow is right; we'll need all the help we can get." Marcurio stopped and pondered Ysgrig's words. "What about Lyvette?" He asked. "What?" "What about Lyvette? Wouldn't she want to go save Sarila?" Marcurio asked. Ysgrig stared at him for a moment. "Is this some kind of joke?" He asked, observing Marcurio's facial expressions. Marcurio shook his head. "I'm serious. Kharjo's coming, who would watch Lyvette? She once followed Sarila and I into the forest, and she's bound to do it again, especially now that she's got some weapon training."

Ysgrig opened his mouth to argue, but Marcurio _did_ have a point. "Gods, I'm going to be the worst parent when my child is born…" He mumbled. "Alright, Lyvette can come, but _only_ if she wants to, and if Sarila asks, it was YOUR idea, not mine." Marcurio adopted a smug grin on his face, pleased with Ysgrig's acceptance of his suggestion. "Certainly. With a master of the arcane arts her side, however, that little girl will have nothing to fear. Why, have I ever told you about the time I-" "Yes, yes, Marcurio. That's grand and all, but we really must be on our way." Marcurio frowned, but complied and followed Ysgrig into the inn.


	54. No Escape

"Mercer, please! We need to stop for the night or we'll both collapse from exhaustion!" Sarila desperately begged, her aching legs crying out from traveling all day. Mercer grumbled, and Sarila flinched, expecting another slap on her bruised cheek for speaking out of line, but no slap came. Instead, Mercer led Sarila over to a tree and tied her tether around tight so she wouldn't escape. He walked over and gathered a bundle of sticks, igniting a fire in roughly ten seconds. He warmed himself up, had a quick meal of bread and carrots, and drifted off to sleep, his hand on his dwarven sword, tucked in its sheath. Sarila's legs gave out and she rested against the tree, listening to the rampant running of the nearby river. They had just passed Mixwater Mill half an hour ago.

Sarila didn't need a reflection to know that she looked awful. Her eyes were bloodshot and undoubtedly had bags from lack of sleep, and she'd slightly twisted her ankle as she walked, much to Mercer's amusement. Sarila was on a march through Oblivion, and she knew she had to get out as soon as possible. Sarila rubbed the bindings of her wrists against the tree, quickly and quietly cutting them off. She sighed when her hands were free, reveling in the feeling of fresh air on her sliced and sore wrists. She checked her sheathes for her dagger, but noticed, in the distance, Mercer's other sheath contained her dagger. "Of course he took it." She quietly mumbled, rubbing the rope of the tether against the tree, slowly cutting it up.

Mercer stirred, and his eyes opened. Just as Sarila broke through the rope and was fully freed, Mercer leapt up and ran over to the tree. Sarila saw him charging towards her, but her legs were so tired and weak that all she could do was stand and flinch, awaiting the impending pain to befall her. Mercer tackled Sarila to the ground, snarling in anger. "You disobedient little harlot! You're in for it now, thinking you could escape without me catching you!" Mercer yelled, slapping Sarila on both cheeks as many times as possible. "Try and talk your way out of this one!" He growled, giving Sarila a rough punch to the mouth. Sarila whimpered in pain, trying to push him off her, but in doing so, she had kneed Mercer in the crotch. The Breton hissed in pain and grasped his tenders before angrily standing up and grabbing Sarila by the collar of her armor.

Sarila kicked and screamed and punched Mercer's hand as he dragged her over to the river. He pushed her forward, her head in the icy water, and placed a foot firmly on her back. Mercer morbidly grinned and grasped Sarila's head with his hands, forcing her entire head underwater. Sarila squirmed and struggled, all the while holding her breath. Sarila closed her eyes tightly and imagined she was swimming in a lake with Ysgrig like they did as children. Though, she grimly thought, neither of them had been forcefully held under the water.

Several times, her head had emerged from the water, and she gasped for air before submerging again, occasionally inhaling water. She forced the water out of her burning lungs with several coughs, only to take in more water. Sarila grew weak, suddenly dreading water, as she struggled against Mercer. Several swishes and splashes were heard in the water, and Sarila looked up slightly.

Sarila was face-to-face with a slaughterfish.

She gasped in surprise, inhaling more water. Sarila felt as if she were going to drown right then and there, but Mercer had noticed the slaughterfish, and pulled Sarila out of the water, taking his foot off her back. "Let this be a lesson to you, foolish girl. I will catch you anytime and every time you try and escape me. Whether you survive or die is all depending on how I'm feeling at the time, so let this be a fair warning." He spat, roughly dragging her back to his fire. He kicked her heels every chance he got on the walk back, and tied another rope around her neck, tying the other end around the tree.

Sarila knew that there was no escape this time, and she should get her rest while she could.

She ignored the stinging pain in her body, and instead focused on the stinging pain in her mind.

 _I'm not going to get out of this alive._


	55. Drowning In Terror

**A/N: Heyo, human beings! I'm back with another chapter of the story, but first, I had something I wanted to mention…**

 **As some of you all might have noticed, the story was first published on May 16, 2015. Now, I realized this as well, and was planning on posting a series of chapters, but all of a sudden, things got craaaazy busy, and I eventually had to ditch the idea. *sigh* Sorry about that, guys…I'll try my best to keep updating the story! Promise!**

Sarila's violet eyes opened, and she panted heavily from lack of hydration. Her wrists were scratched and torn from the bindings, and her neck was red and sore from the rope of the tether that had previously held her to the tree. She noted the lack of her surroundings, and found herself floating in an empty, indigo universe. Blankness and emptiness went as far as the eye could see, and eventually, a large cavern ripped open the bleak sky, pulling Sarila into it. Sarila closed her eyes, wild with terror, and prayed to Stendarr for mercy.

When she felt her feet on the ground, she opened her eyes once more. She was back at her old childhood home. It was the same as it had been before the Thalmor attack, and the sun shone an eerie grayish hue through the dark clouds that masked it. Sarila looked around until she saw her father hoeing the gardens. She cautiously approached him with a doubtful demeanor, for she knew something was not quite right.

Her father stood straight up and tightened his grip on the garden hoe. His head slowly turned around until it was facing Sarila, who was terrified by the abnormal contortion of his neck. Without warning, her father's head fell clean off, akin to the day he was decapitated by the Thalmor agent. Sarila screamed and leapt backwards, tripping over something.

Sarila groaned in pain and sat up, noting the sticky substance she had landed it. She touched it with her hand and realized it was blood. She gasped and leapt up, walking backwards to evade her father who, despite the loss of his head, crept towards her slowly with the garden hoe. Sarila felt her foot come into contact with something solid, and she looked down to see fragments of her mother, exactly as she had seen them when her mother was blown to bits by the Thalmor. Her mother's face came together, along with her body and limbs. Soon, her mother joined her father in pursuing their daughter, blood oozing from various places on her face, neck, and body.

Sarila was beyond horrified now, and screamed as loud as the Red Mountain's eruption. She quickened her pace of escape, though tripped once more when her exhausted legs gave out. She'd landed flat on the ground, and a mere ten feet away from her was the battered and bloodied body of Terdel. Terdel's brownish eyes were still open, and he pushed himself off the ground, his decaying bones crackling with each move he made, and joined the pursuit of the innocent and terrified Sarila.

Sarila picked up the pace, and was running from the abominations that she had once loved, who sped up and chased her through the forest. Thunder boomed in the sky, and several bright bolts of lightning announced their presence as they tore across the graying clouds. Sarila heard the rushing of a river, and looked back at her mother, father, and Terdel, who refused to relent in their pursuit. She heard gruff cackling booming through the sky, and looked up. Mercer's face made itself evident in the stormy skies, and he beamed maliciously at Sarila. He appeared to be controlling something akin to puppets on several strings. Sarila followed the strings, and much to her horror, she discovered that Mercer was controlling her dead loved ones to relentlessly chase and terrorize her.

Sarila's breath quickened. She looked back at the undead and back at the river. Without a second thought, she jumped into the river, sinking into the surprisingly deep water. Sarila stayed under the water and let the currents carry her away from Mercer's undead puppets. Her lungs soon wailed for air, and she began to swim up before she caught her let on something. She looked back down to see a bony arm with rotting skin firmly latched onto her right leg.A disheveled, decaying face appeared in the murky depths.

 _Ytri._

The undead Ytri growled and pulled Sarila deeper under the water, intent on bringing her to a watery grave. Sarila reluctantly kicked her reanimated friend's head, several rotting teeth flying from her battered skull. Ytri's remaining eye showed a clear visage of Mercer's evil grin for a moment before returning to its normal battered state. Sarila struggled so much that Ytri's arm flew right off. Sarila gasped in surprise, as Ytri's arm still had a firm grip on her leg, and she inhaled a mouthful of water. Sarila's lungs grew tighter and tighter as she swam up for air, but Ytri did not give up.

Sarila felt something tighten around her neck and drag her down into the water. She looked back at Ytri, who had lassoed Sarila with her own rotting entrails. Sarila was sickened and quickly tried to loosen the grip, but the lack of oxygen slowly overtook Sarila and clouded her vision. Her sight went red and her lungs finally gave out, filling up with water.

Sarila gasped, awakening from her terrifying nightmare. Though she was thoroughly disturbed by the dream, she awoke feeling refreshed and restored. She was, however, still dehydrated. She sighed, looking down at Ytri's amulet of Talos fastened around her neck. At least, she thought, Mercer hadn't taken _this_ from her.

She shuddered in temporary disgust, as she could still feel the bone-chilling fright pumping through her veins. She shook away the chills that ran down her spine and gently shut her eyes, listening to the calming and reassuring sounds of nature. A small, orange bird on the tree overhead looked down at Sarila. He twittered and sang gently, prompting Sarila to open her eyes and look up at the bird. She gave a small smile. It had almost seemed as if the little fellow pitied her and wanted to offer her some comfort.

Her smile disappeared when the bird flew away, his little wings beating with all their might, as Mercer approached her. The thuds of his boots on the ground blocked out the pleasant sounds of nature, and Sarila looked up at his scowl. "It's about time you've woken up. I was half tempted to come over her and beat you with a stick, but you unfortunately ruined that little plan." He grumbled, untying the tether from the tree. He held onto the tether, guiding her like a horse, much to Sarila's annoyance.

"Mercer, with all due respect, I feel as if I'm being treated like a horse. I would prefer it if you let me at least walk on my own." She politely requested, mentally preparing for another slap on her cheek. Mercer scoffed, his eyebrows dipping lower. "And what if you run away again like you tried to last night?" He snarled. "I wouldn't get very far; I'm dehydrated, hungry, and my hands are bound. Besides, you could easily catch up and kill me." Sarila reasoned. Mercer scratched his bearded chin. The woman _did_ have a point.

Without a word, Mercer untied the rope around Sarila's neck. Sarila inhaled deeply, feeling the pressure in her windpipe clearing up. Sarila's silent celebration was interrupted when Mercer grasped her by the collar of her armor, forcing something into her mouth. Sarila bit down on it and tasted the sweetness of a crunchy red apple. She groaned aloud as she savored the first morsel of food she'd had in days. "If you think you're being _handled_ like a horse, then you'll _eat_ like a horse." Mercer declared, his voice devoid of any hostility he'd previously shown her. Sarila was shocked. Mercer was actually being _nice_ to her.

Perhaps, she thought, he was slowly turning over a new leaf, or perhaps he felt guilty over killing her best friend right before her eyes.

Sarila didn't know what Mercer was planning, why he was being nice to her, or what in the world she was going to do.

Another thing she didn't know was that Valelia was indeed alive, and had rounded everyone up to rescue her.


	56. Twenty Four Hours

Valelia, Brynjolf and Karliah walked out of Nightingale Hall feeling forever changed for the better. Karliah had been a Nightingale, but needed to make amends with Lady Nocturnal for shirking her duties as a Nightingale. Brynjolf and Valie, however, had never been Nightingales, and the former had assumed that Nightingales were just tall tales to keep the young footpads in line.

The three figures blended in with the darkness and shadows, their Nightingale capes flying in the breeze. It was a particularly cloudy day, and Karliah seemed to think there would be a storm on the way. Valie kept her eyes peeled for Ysgrig, Marcurio, and Kharjo on the roads. As they walked, the three hooded Nightingales made idle conversation. The topics shifted from fighting techniques to Mercer's treachery to the fate of Sarila.

Brynjolf came to a stop and squinted, trying to make out something in the distance. Valie followed his line of sight until she saw four figures off in the distance. Three were tall, well-built men: unmistakably Ysgrig, Marcurio, and their friend, Kharjo. The other person was small and seemed to be covered by iron armor. Valie realized they had a child accompanying them.

"Gods above, what do those lads think they're doing?!" Valelia huffed, hurrying over to them. Marcurio was the first to notice Valie and gave a smug grin and a wave. The rest of the group turned to face the three Nightingales. "I see you've had a change of armor. It suits you." Marcurio idly commented, but soon grew intimidated when Valie removed her Nightingale hood to reveal her glaring face. "You lads can't possibly be serious. You're trying to bring a child-a _little girl_ -into the Dwarven Ruins?"

Lyvette frowned but remained silent, awkwardly kicking a small rock out of her path. "Valelia, she wanted to come. Besides, she's in training. She's a good hunter, and pretty good with a dagger, might I add." Ysgrig reasoned. Valie huffed, but her expression softened, and she nodded. Lyvette shyly looked up at Valie, and hid behind Ysgrig. She poked her head out and looked at the Nord woman once more. "Your name is Valelia? That's…that's my doll's name. And the lady in my dream…that's her name too." She shyly told Valie. Valie smiled at the little girl and got on her knees so she was eye level with her. "Yes, my name is Valelia. What's yer name, little one?" She kindly asked. "Lyv…Lyvette." The ebony-haired girl answered, coming out from behind Ysgrig.

Marcurio and Karliah both grew slightly impatient. Karliah knew time was of the essence, and she wanted to make sure Mercer wouldn't escape alive. Marcurio had similar intentions, but he wanted to be the one to rescue Sarila. He felt silly pursuing a fantasy of rescuing a beautiful damsel in distress, yet he felt justified in his reasons. "Let's get a move on. We've not got much time left." Karliah gently commanded.

For a day, the group walked. Lyvette was beyond tired, and the armor was weighing her down. She didn't complain, though, because she wanted to prove that she was a strong girl, just like Sarila. Occasionally, though, she would tug on Ysgrig or Kharjo's arm and ask for a piggyback ride, to which she was never denied, no matter how tired the two of them were by the time they'd finished. Marcurio wanted to keep the spirits of the group high by telling them another one of his thrilling mage tales.

An hour into Marcurio's stories, everyone's brains were frazzled. Kharjo stared blankly ahead and drowned out the sound of Marcurio's storytelling by humming a quiet tune as he walked. Brynjolf huffed in annoyance and did his best to ignore the Imperial mage. Valelia made a feeble attempt to listen, but eventually let her mind wander. Ysgrig walked far ahead of the group to avoid listening. Karliah and Lyvette, however, did not seem to mind. Karliah simply walked and paid no mind to Marcurio, not letting him get to her. Lyvette listened to Marcurio's stories with eager ears, always waiting for the next words he was about to say.

When the next moon rose, it was a unanimous decision to rest. Karliah, Brynjolf, and Kharjo gathered some bundles of wood, and Marcurio lit them with a quick flames spell. As soon as the fire was lit, Ysgrig and Kharjo lay down and fell asleep. Karliah stood a distance from the group, her back turned to the fire. Valie and Brynjolf lay next to each other, not too close but not too far from the fire. Lyvette lay near Marcurio, hoping for another mage story.

Marcurio was half asleep when he felt someone poking and prodding his upper back and neck. He ignored the feelings and tried to imagine something peaceful as he drifted off. Suddenly, he grunted in pain when he felt someone tugging on his ponytail. He rolled over to see Lyvette, her blue eyes wide open. "Mister Marky, can you tell another mage story, pleeeeaaase?" She begged, giving a sleepy grin. Marcurio sighed. "Alright, but this is the last one." He told her, and she nodded excitedly.

"Once upon a time, there was a mage named…uh…Narcurio…yeah, Narcurio…and he had a lot of friends. He and his friends were going to a Dwarven Ruin, but one night, they had to stop because they were so tired. The mage lay down by the campfire and went to sleep. The end." Marcurio concluded, yawning as he involuntarily drifted off to sleep. Lyvette scoffed. "That was horrible! Tell a good one! Pleeeeaaaase?!" She pleaded, though Marcurio was completely asleep by now. She whined. "Mister Marky, please…" She yawned. "Please…tell…a good…"

Everyone was fast asleep. Their bodies were rejuvenating from the past twenty four hours of walking.

Everyone was quiet and peaceful as they slept.

Everyone except Valie and Brynjolf.

Brynjolf smiled at the beautiful thief who had stolen his heart. He reached out and stroked her cheek. Valie smiled and looked away, blushing. "When…when Mercer came back to us and told us you were gone, I believed it. But somewhere deep inside my heart, I knew you were alive. I knew you would come back breathing and beautiful. I knew I'd get to see you again." Brynjolf whispered, his voice low and breathy.

Valie smiled. "I did everything in my power to make sure I'd get back to you alive. I wanted you, Bryn. I _still_ want you." She replied, looking up at the sky. The stars twinkled and glittered, and Brynjolf quietly chuckled. "The sky looks just like it did on the night we first kissed, eh, lass?" Valie chuckled and nodded. "You mean when ye caught me breaking into Brand-Shei's strongbox and told me I'd have to give you either the loot or a kiss?" "Precisely, lass. Precisely." He whispered before leaning in and pressing his rough lips to her soft ones. Valie felt her insides go warm and fuzzy when their lips made contact. Their fingers intertwined as Brynjolf slowly pushed his tongue into her mouth.

Valie felt a need she hadn't felt since her temporary romance with the merchant's son in Bruma. She kissed Brynjolf back with an intense passion flaring in her heart, rubbing Brynjolf's back in small circles.

"Ahem."

The couple was startled, and broke the kiss, moving away from each other as quickly as possible. They both looked up to see Karliah. "I wanted to talk to you both about the situation at hand…I'm sorry for interrupting, but I think it would be best if things didn't…well, _escalate._ " Karliah mischievously smirked beneath her Nightingale hood. Brynjolf cleared his throat. "Very well. Come on, Valie, lass." He got off the ground and helped Valie off the ground. The three Nightingales walked off into the forest in silence.


	57. Speculation

**A/N: Hey you guys! I'm soooo sorry, it's been too long! Things have been kind of rough lately and I've been feeling down, but it's mostly better now, so it's alright!**

 **First, I have a few things I'd like to clear up for the story's sake.**

 **There's been some confusion on the whole attack on Sarila's family farm and when it occurred. The Markarth Incident is stated to be the very first assembly of the Stormcloak Rebellion, and it occurred in 4E 176. On the 17** **th** **of Last Seed, 4E 201, Helgen was attacked by Alduin. Sarila and Ysgrig were only seven years old when the Thalmor attacked their farm, and their father had only been in the rebellion since 4E 189, so this means that the attack on the farm was on 4E 190. The first chapter of the story takes place in late Evening Star of 4E 200, the year Sarila and Ysgrig turned 17, marking the tenth year since their farm was attacked.**

 **Next, there's been some questions among my peers about Valelia's story. Don't worry; I haven't forgotten to elaborate. I've been dropping some hints throughout the story, but her entire story will come soon enough.**

 **And finally, there's also been some confusion as to where Sarila and Mercer are, and how far the group is behind them. As of the last chapter, Sarila and Mercer are near Tumble Arch Pass and are approaching Irkngthand's entrance. The Nightingales and their group are close to the border of the Rift and Eastmarch, approaching the Lost Knife Cave.**

 **Well, I think I've cleared up (most of) the questions. Remember, reviews are always appreciated, and if you have any questions, feel free to comment and I'll try to answer them. Enough talk! To the story!**

Sarila and Mercer had reached Irkngthand's entrance by about 11 o'clock the next morning. Sarila was exhausted, though Mercer had seemingly trained himself to need little rest. They'd gotten by on what little food rations they had, and Sarila wondered why Mercer hadn't just put her out of her misery.

Sarila internally cringed at having wished for death. She had just found her long lost brother, adopted an orphaned little girl, and found who she hoped would be the love of her life. Ysgrig needed her. Lyvette needed her.

Marcurio needed her.

Even the thought of his name made her heart skip a beat and heat rise to her cheeks. She only felt sadness when thinking of him, though. There was no chance, she thought, that she would ever see him again.

Sarila had been told to wait outside the ruins. She numbly nodded, Mercer's chilling words no longer affecting her. Halfway into his lecture to discourage her from fleeing, Mercer stopped. "It's not like you'd be stupid enough to run away again. There's not really anywhere else for you to go." He'd told her before heading into the ruins.

Visions of Lyvette, Marcurio, and Ysgrig haunted her. Every one of them was crying, asking her why she had to leave them. "Don't you love us?" Ysgrig had asked, his voice nothing but a ghostly whisper as he stepped forward. "Of course I love you! You all mean so much to me, I'd never have left if I knew I'd never see you again." Sarila mumbled, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "You said you'd take care of me, you're my new mother! Mothers don't leave their little girls!" Lyvette wailed, emerging from her veil of mist. "Please, I'm so sorry, Lyvette! Ysgrig and Chalvia could take care of you…you could be a new family. They'd be good parents, Lyvette." Sarila reached down to ruffle Lyvette's hair, though her hand went through the hallucination of the little girl she loved.

"Why didn't you let me come along, Sarila? I could have protected you. I could have stopped any of this from happening." Marcurio stepped forward as Sarila's tears began to fall from her eyes. "I didn't know, I didn't know…" She mumbled over and over again as her friends disappeared into the depths of her mind.

A moment later, Mercer returned to see Sarila incoherently muttering on the ground, tears streaked across her face. Mercer opened his mouth to shout an insult, but quickly relented. "Come on." He ordered. Sarila mumbled something inaudible and stood up, feeling weaker than before.

Sarila immediately recognized the scent of fresh blood. _Probably some Falmer or a Frostbite Spider or two._

Corpses of bandits were strewn across the hall, blood staining the rock and concrete of the walls and ground. Had Sarila been as innocent as she were a few months ago, she would have heaved up whatever rations Mercer had given her, though now she was a changed woman, and had seen things no lady should have to see at her age.

Sarila frowned at the splattered blood and dismembered corpses of the bandits. Each one of these bandits, she thought, had a life. They had friends, memories, maybe some of them even had families.

Thinking of the bandits made Sarila feel even worse. In her time with the Thieves' Guild, she'd realized something; no person was wholly evil. Not a thief, not a smuggler, not a bandit. Not even Mercer. Mercer was just scared, she thought. He wanted to steal from others to protect himself, only because he was scared.

"Stay alert. There are bound to be Falmer, Chaurus, or even some Dwarven automatons." Mercer warned. "Oh, peachy." Sarila muttered under her breath. Here he was, bringing her to a Dwarven death trap filled with creatures she could only imagine. She'd never seen a Dwarven automaton up close, but had heard they were quite deadly. She'd never seen a Falmer or a Chaurus, either, but knew what to expect from those two creatures.

Sarila's temporary confidence was replaced by fright. She realized that Mercer still had her dagger in his sheath. She didn't dare ask that her dagger be returned to her; Mercer would feed her to the Falmer, maybe stab her to death if she was lucky. She exhaled, sweat rolling down her forehead as she stuck close to Mercer. She knew that he would keep her safe for whatever scheme he had up his sleeve. 


	58. Running Out Of Time

The rescue party had taken off early that morning. They had just passed the border into Eastmarch, evident by the bone-chilling nip in the air. Several tiny snowflakes drifted through the air. Everyone walked slightly faster than normal; they knew time was of the essence, and didn't want to be caught up in the storm. Lyvette seemed to be walking faster than anyone else in the group, despite being weighed down by her armor.

Ysgrig was impressed at how fast the girl was learning. She'd learned the basics of melee combat, and was now learning to move effectively in her armor. There was also the aspect of thievery that the girl had learned from Sarila. He didn't know how the child had done it, but she had stolen her weapon from the Scorched Hammer, and had swiped some taffy from his pockets at one point in their travels.

Valelia's faith in the girl grew as she saw her trekking through the harsh climates of Skyrim in her clunky armor without fatigue. The child was still quite innocent and optimistic, she'd noticed, and cringed at the thought of Lyvette witnessing something she'd never be able to forget. Though, she thought, she probably had already; she had been on her own for so long before Sarila found her.

"Slow down, Lyvette. You'll wear yourself out." Ysgrig warned, and Lyvette sighed. "I really, _really_ want to find Sarila." She whined. "All of us do. You just need to slow down, you'll need that energy later on in the ruins. Besides, the rest of us are old and can't keep up." Ysgrig joked, earning chuckles from the adults of the group. "How old are you?" Lyvette asked. "Sarila and I will be turning eighteen on the 15th of Rain's Hand." Ysgrig paused and frowned. "At least, that's what I think is the day we were born. We'll have to ask Sarila if she remembers."

Lyvette giggled. "Eighteen? You really are old, Ysgrig!" She laughed. "Oh come now, Lyvette! If he's old, what does that make us?" Brynjolf asked with a grin, Valelia laughing beside him. Lyvette thought for a moment before giving another round of giggles. "Ancient!"

Everyone continued laughing and making idle chatter as they talked, walking faster and faster as time went on. Marcurio decided it would be a perfect time for another one of his infamous mage stories, and proceeded to share his bold tales of battle, courage, and chivalry with the group, much to the majority's annoyance.

Lyvette, of course, listened with excited ears. She never found Marcurio's stories boring, and would even listen to the same one twice. She particularly enjoyed the one where Marcurio brought a horker to a tavern and taught it to dance, though the others scoffed in disbelief.

Eventually, they came to a clearing where two deer grazed before the snow covered the grass. Ysgrig had, of course, seen this as another opportunity for Lyvette to practice with her dagger. He had given her clear instructions: kill the bigger of the deer, go for the head or the heart, and run away if it shows any signs of hostility.

A few minutes and several thrusts of Lyvette's dagger later, the group was carving out venison from the deer while Lyvette was showered with praise. There wasn't any time to cook, they'd decided, since Mercer and Sarila could have already been inside the ruins.

Their predictions were truer then they could have imagined.

They all began to run when the snow picked up and the sky grew dark.

They didn't know it at the time, but in the ruins of Irkngthand, Sarila was staring death in the face.


	59. Out Of Hand

Sarila had never run so fast in her life.

Four Falmer were on her trail, and the worst part was that she had been separated from Mercer, who was also pursued by the freakish fiends.

Sarila ducked behind a column and remained as quiet as possible as she caught her breath. Mattha had told her that, in her book about Falmer, they were rendered blind, but could hear their foes quite easily. Sarila held her breath, her heart pounding out of her chest. She peeked out from behind the ancient column and felt a weight lift from her shoulders as three of the fiends stumbled away. Several sounds of fighting were heard in the distance, and Sarila knew that Mercer was giving the Falmer a gruesome fight.

Sarila suddenly asked herself where the fourth Falmer had gone, but before she could speculate any further, her question was answered when a Falmer axe implanted itself in the column an inch above her head. She shrieked and got up, running away as the Falmer freed its axe from the column. The snarling mutant lumbered towards her, and Sarila began to panic. She lunged forward and grabbed the axe, and before she knew it, she and the Falmer were struggling and tugging the axe away from each other. Soon, they both lost grip, and the axe flew into the hard, stony walls of the cave and shattered into hundreds of pieces. The Falmer refused to relent, though, and tackled Sarila.

Sarila didn't give up, and kicked the flailing Falmer off her. She stood up, remembering that the Gods had given her two hands and two legs. She raised her fists, inhaling and exhaling, preparing for the fight that was about to ensue. The Falmer stood up and charged towards her. He raised his arm and flung it towards her, though the Nord caught it. She used her free hand to punch the fiend in his deformed face. She released his arm and unleashed a barrage of punches on the Falmer's face, occasionally throwing in a kick to the abdomen.

She hadn't trained in hand-to-hand combat, but she knew it would be useful at some point in her life when she didn't have a weapon on her. The Falmer tried to rip into her with his arm once more, but the quick woman caught it again. This time, she gave a fierce cry and ripped the Falmer's arm off. Blood flew everywhere and the Falmer fell to the ground, wailing and shrieking as it desperately tried to stop the blood as it slowly and painfully bled to death. Sarila cringed and stomped the Falmer's head in, silencing it permanently as its skull was crushed.

"Mercer! Mercer Frey!" Sarila yelled, her voice echoing in the cavern. "Maybe I shouldn't yell so loud…more of the Falmer could come." She whispered to herself. A moment later, a hand grasped her mouth, stifling a shriek. Sarila turned around to see Mercer, blood coating his sword. "Quiet down! Every one of those dysfunctional monsters in this cave will hear you!" He hissed, removing his hand from her mouth. "Come on. We've got a lot of work to do." Mercer commanded, tying another rope around her neck. "Why are you tying me up again?" Sarila asked in annoyance. Mercer scoffed. "I don't want to have to track you down every time we get separated, so I'm just going to keep that from happening in the first place." He frowned when he saw Sarila's look of disapproval. "Quit your grumbling, girl. I tied it less tight. You should thank me for sparing your scrawny little neck, because I could easily just cut it up."

Sarila nodded and rolled her eyes as Mercer once again dragged her into the depths of Irkngthand. She still had no clue why he had to take her here of all places, but wasn't going to risk a slap to the face or a tighter rope around her neck. All she could do was wait and hope for things to get better.

 **A/N: Yep, yep! If you thought chapter 60 was going to be special…you are correct! You all know the drill by now, so…cue the preview!**

"Lyvette…before we go into the ruins, I want you to know that if Sarila…didn't make it, Chalvia and I will take good care of you." Ysgrig promised, sadness in his eyes. Lyvette shook her head. "No, no, no, no! Sarila is okay! I know she is! She's strong and brave, and she can do anything!"

"If risks need to be taken, I'll go. You all have families to look out for. I've got nothing to lose." Karliah assured the shocked group. "Karliah, that's crazy! You've fought on for so long, you can't just give up on a whim!" Valelia chastised the Dunmer. "No. All I want is for Mercer to be brought to justice. We need to make sure he never does anything to hurt anyone again. If anyone's life is lost in the process, it should be mine."

The enraged Falmer snarled, nocking a particularly sharp arrow in his bow. The Falmer's cause of anger was evident; these humans were here to invade the home of the Falmer and steal their statue's most valuable assets. The Falmer listened for an easy target and found one, aiming his bow at Lyvette. The twang of the bowstring as the arrow flew towards Lyvette's skull echoed, and the sickening splatter of blood and cracking of bone rang in the cave. In a split second, the group had gone from relatively calm to frenzied.

"This is it. We have to avenge everyone Mercer's hurt, everyone Mercer's killed, indirectly or otherwise." Ysgrig announced to the group as they neared the ancient door. Valelia inhaled sharply, looking over at Brynjolf briefly before looking back at the door. "Well…it looks like there's **no going back."**


	60. No Going Back Now

Sarila and Mercer had made it a bit further into the ruins, Mercer making sure that it would be as hard as possible for anyone to follow them into the ruins. Sarila rolled her eyes at his insecurity. It's not like anyone would come down and chase them, she thought.

As Sarila delved deeper into the ruins with Mercer, doubting any signs of rescue, her friends and fellow thieves had made it to the door of the ruins. The snow was coming down, and the setting sun was masked in a blanket of glistening flurries from the sky. Everyone was thankful that their armor was laced with warm furs of animals, except for Marcurio, who complained that his mage's robe was doing nothing to keep him warm.

Ysgrig felt uneasy with the presence of Lyvette. He knew that if something had happened to Lyvette in the dangerous Dwarven ruins, Sarila would never forgive him.

He would never forgive himself.

Ysgrig pushed the spine-chilling thoughts away and turned to the ebony-haired little girl. She looked up at him with immense excitement in her big, blue eyes, grinning like never before. "We made it! We can get Sarila, and then we'll all be happy!" She beamed, her eyes twinkling with reflections of the gleaming snowflakes. Ysgrig inhaled deeply and mentally prepared himself for what he was about to say next.

"Lyvette…before we go into the ruins, I want you to know that if Sarila…didn't make it, Chalvia and I will take good care of you." Ysgrig promised, sadness in his eyes. Lyvette shook her head. "No, no, no, no! Sarila is okay! I know she is! She's strong and brave, and she can do anything!"

Karliah sighed beneath her Nightingale hood. She had once had this kind of hope. "Gallus is strong," She would say in her younger years, "No bandit nor bear nor draugr will ever get the best of him."

How wrong she had been, she thought, tears forming in her eyes.

Karliah inhaled deeply, her eyes sweeping over everyone in the group. "Brynjolf, Valelia, and I will go first. Once everything is clear, we'll call you in." She turned to the door with a swish of her Nightingale cape, unsheathing her Nightingale blade as she walked inside. Brynjolf gave Valie a glance beneath his Nightingale hood before walking inside, Valelia entering behind him.

Ysgrig, Lyvette, Kharjo, and Marcurio patiently waited until Valie came back out. "It's…clear, I s'pose ye could say." She grimaced. "What do you mean?" Ysgrig asked confusedly. Valie shook her head and exhaled. "Ysgrig, yer going to need to take Lyvette through this room as quick as ye can, and do not, I repeat, _do not_ hesitate."

It was only after Valie had finished explained that the smell of blood made its way to Ysgrig's nose. "Gods above." He grumbled before turning to Lyvette. "Come on, Lyvette. Let's go." He urged, taking her hand as they entered the ruins.

Ysgrig and Lyvette breezed through the room. Lyvette asked Ysgrig several times to slow down, to which he declined. The girl was concerned at first before she figured that he must have had his reasons .

Kharjo walked over to Ysgrig and Lyvette, paying no mind to his surroundings. Marcurio, however, observed every gory detail in the room. Several bandits lay carelessly spread about by the fire in the center of the room, blood caked in their clothes and hair. Some of the bandits were missing limbs.

A glistening object soon caught Marcurio's eye. He approached it and picked it up. It appeared to be an amulet of Talos.

A clear inscription, 'Ytri' was made in the rusty metal.

Marcurio gasped. "No." Kharjo looked back at Marcurio with curiosity on his face. "What is it?" "This amulet…this is Sarila's!" He held up the amulet for Kharjo to see. Kharjo was surprised, but overjoyed at the same time. Sarila had been here, he thought, but was she alive? Marcurio's temporary excitement was soon replaced by disgust when he realized he was surrounded by the blood of the battered bandits.

Marcurio cringed, holding back the incredible urge to vomit, and he ran to catch up with the group. When he caught up, he suddenly heard some mechanical sounds clanking somewhere in the hall. He turned around to see a Dwarven sphere approaching the group. "Watch out!" He yelled, drawing his sword. Everyone turned to the Dwarven sphere. Lyvette shrieked but grasped her dagger firmly in her palm, trying to gain the courage to attack. Karliah, Kharjo, and Ysgrig were a step ahead of her, though, and bashed the sphere into bits with their weapons. "A Dwarven sphere. I've seen these before." Karliah sighed.

"If risks need to be taken, I'll go. You all have families to look out for. I've got nothing to lose." Karliah assured the shocked group. "Karliah, that's crazy! You've fought on for so long, you can't just give up on a whim!" Valelia chastised the Dunmer. "No. All I want is for Mercer to be brought to justice. We need to make sure he never does anything to hurt anyone again. If anyone's life is lost in the process, it should be mine."

"Karliah, please listen. Things have been rough for you for…a long, long time, but you have us now. Haven't ye noticed things starting to look up?" Valie asked, waiting for Karliah's response. Karliah thought for a brief moment. The woman _did_ have a point. The Guild no longer wanted to hunt her down, Mercer was acknowledged for his crimes, and Lady Nocturnal had forgiven her.

Karliah did not respond, only giving a quiet sigh and a nod of agreement. "No one is going to die, alright? We need to stick together. Remember, we've got to bring Mercer to justice, bring the eyes back to the Guild, and save Sarila." Brynjolf encouraged, everyone nodding in agreement.

A soft sigh escaped Lyvette's lips, capturing Kharjo's attention. He knelt down so he was eye level with the girl. "What is wrong?" He sympathetically asked the girl. "I…I got scared. I couldn't kill the Dwarven sphere, I just…I got scared." She mumbled, ashamed by her fear. Kharjo shook his head and gave a reassuring smile. "This one thinks you have done well. Not many children can hunt, and even less can come to places like this." He paused, making sure Lyvette was paying attention. "Fear is natural. Khajiit has felt fear, even when he was grown. Khajiit still feels fear." He explained, and Lyvette nodded in understanding. "Do not worry, Lyvette. We will keep you safe." He reassured. Lyvette smiled. "Thanks! I'll…I'll keep you safe, too!" She grinned, Kharjo chuckling as he walked alongside her.

After roaming the halls of the ruins, everyone grew more comfortable with the layout. They spread out, checking every nook and cranny, watching each other's backs. They would stop every once in awhile when they heard noise, hoping to hear Mercer or Sarila, but it was usually an internal collapse in some area of the caves, or a stray Falmer.

After a while, they came across a sort of lift. Everyone but Karliah was unsure of this unusual device. Karliah simply strode aboard and beckoned the group to join her. Once everyone had boarded, she pulled the lever, sending everyone into the depths of the ruins.

They approached a large, brown metal door. Kharjo put his ear to the door and listened for any sounds. Once he had confirmed he heard nothing, he opened the door.

"Look out!"

Ysgrig pushed Kharjo to the side, and the Khajiit narrowly avoided a swinging mace trap. Kharjo was a bit shaken by the unexpected blunder, but brushed his fur off. He looked up at Ysgrig with gratefulness in his eyes. "Khajiit thanks you." He smiled. "It was no trouble; we have to look out for each other." Ysgrig replied with a beaming grin.

They walked through the next hall, Marcurio wishing he had some lockpicks to pick the locks on the bars that concealed several jewels and precious metals, though he knew he had no idea how to pick locks. Besides, he thought, we must focus on offing this Mercer Frey fellow.

The group soon approached a gate of Dwarven metal bars overlooking what appeared to be an abandoned Dwarven city. "By the Twin Moons..." Kharjo gasped in awe as the group viewed the amazing remnants of the city. Marcurio scoffed, rolling his eyes with a smug grin. "These ruins might be interesting…if I weren't already an expert on Nordic history!" He boasted, Lyvette looking up at him in awe. "Wow! Wizards are soooooo cool! I hope I can be a wizard just like you!" She exclaimed, flapping her arms around wildly.

"Yes, well…let's try not to make too much noise. I've heard cave-ins can start that way." He warned, and Lyvette stopped, putting a hand over her mouth to conceal giggles. "Sorry!" She laughed. "As for these ruins…" Marcurio turned back and overlooked the city, his eyes carefully observing every intricate detail. He made note of the Falmer he saw lurking over by one of the buildings. He made a mental note that if there was one Falmer standing around, there was bound to be more. "Let's go. We have a lot of catching up to do." Everyone walked into the next hall, seeing no way through the bars.

After they emerged from the hall, they'd found that they had made it past the bars and were approaching the Dwarven city. Lyvette suddenly stopped and pointed at a strange, makeshift hut made out of chaurus chitin. "What is that, Marcurio?" She asked. Marcurio observed the hut. "It appears to be a hut made of chaurus chitin, sometimes used by the Falmer to store items. We'd best keep moving."

Karliah silenced the Falmer Marcurio had seen by the building with an arrow to the heart. All was silent in the cave except for several crumbling of rocks and droplets of water plummeting to the ground.

A low growl rang through the cavern, though no one heard.

Slowly out of the chitin hut, a Falmer crept out, grasping a bow firmly in his bony hands.

The enraged Falmer snarled, nocking a particularly sharp arrow in his bow. The Falmer's cause of anger was evident; these humans were here to invade the home of the Falmer and steal their statue's most valuable assets. The Falmer listened for an easy target and found one, aiming his bow at Lyvette. The twang of the bowstring as the arrow flew towards Lyvette's skull echoed, and the sickening splatter of blood and cracking of bone rang in the cave. In a split second, the group had gone from relatively calm to frenzied.

Half of them yelled for Lyvette.

The other half screamed for Kharjo.

Lyvette gave a groan of pain, picking herself up off the ground. She dusted her armor off but stopped when she felt a hot, sticky fluid coating her chestplate.

Blood.

Lyvette's lip quivered and she turned around.

Kharjo lay on the cold, stony ground of the Dwarven ruins, an arrow piercing his left eye.

Enraged, Karliah turned around and stuck her sword through the Falmer's neck, slicing its head clean off.

The group gathered around Kharjo, who lay writhing in pain, blood oozing from what was left of his eye. The arrow had gone through his eye socket, the other end sticking out of the back of his skull.

Kharjo mumbled incoherently before weakly looking towards Lyvette. He slowly raised a finger and beckoned the girl to him, tears now streaking her innocent face.

"W…w…w…what…" He hoarsely mumbled. Lyvette gave a heartwrenching sob and crawled closer to him, placing her hands on his cheeks, not caring that his face was coated in blood. "What? What is it?" She cried, several of her salty tears dripping onto the ground. "What…do you call a…frog…in Windhelm?" He weakly mumbled. Lyvette shook her head, distraught. "What? What are you…what are you talking about?" She sobbed. "What do…you…call a…frog…in…Windhelm?" He repeated, the group looking on in sadness. "A…" She hiccupped, tears pouring into her mouth as she tried to speak. "A Storm-croak?" She half-asked, half-answered.

Kharjo gave several weak chuckles before looking back up at Lyvette. "You have…you have always…made Khajiit smile…" He smiled, reaching up to gently caress her hair before retracting his arm. He slowly closed his remaining eye, quietly exhaling.

Lyvette began to cry. She let out every tear she'd kept in, every sorrow she wanted to spill. Ysgrig wiped a single tear from his eye. His heart broke at the sight. Lyvette had lost yet another person who had meant the world to her. Marcurio sighed, holding back any emotion he wanted to show. Marcurio stepped forward, looking down at Kharjo with sadness in his eyes. "I'm…" He paused, his voice cracking slightly. "I'm sorry, Kharjo. You deserved much better than this." He sighed once more, standing off in the distance, facing away from the group.

Everyone remained silent to honor their fallen friend, except Lyvette, who continued to bawl her eyes out next to Kharjo. Everyone felt worse and worse every time Lyvette let out a desperate plea for him to get up.

"Lyvette…we have to go." Ysgrig gently told the girl. Lyvette began to protest, but looked down and sighed, wiping more tears from her puffy eyes. She reached up into her hair and pulled out her flower hairclip. "Here." She whispered to the unmoving Kharjo. "I want you to have it. I…my mom gave it to me. She said it would make me feel better. I want you to have it." She placed the flower hairclip in Kharjo's palm, closing his fingers around it. She slowly stood up, trudging along with the rest of the group.

Everyone's hearts were heavy, and the loss of Kharjo loomed over each person like a dark layer of fog. They knew they had to power through their sorrows and get to Mercer before he had made off with Sarila and the eyes of the Falmer.

Soon enough, the group had spotted a large door. Ysgrig took over Kharjo's role in listening for danger, and he put his ear to the door.

 _Squeak, squeak, squeak, squeak, thud._

"Son of a bitch…" Ysgrig muttered, and he turned back to face the group.

"This is it. We have to avenge everyone Mercer's hurt, everyone Mercer's killed, indirectly or otherwise." Ysgrig announced to the group as they neared the ancient door. Valelia inhaled sharply, looking over at Brynjolf briefly before looking back at the door. "Well…it looks like there's no going back."

They opened the door quietly as possible, shutting it equally as quiet.

There, on the face of the Great Statue of Irkngthand, was Mercer, prying the eyes of the Falmer out with a pickaxe.

There, on the ledge beneath him, was Sarila with a rope around her neck.

Everyone was relieved that Sarila was alive, though Marcurio seemed to be the most thrilled. It quickly came to their attention that Sarila was in some sort of trance. Her lips were moving, and she was mumbling inaudible things to herself.

Karliah licked her lips and turned to Brynjolf. "He's here and he hasn't seen us yet. Brynjolf, watch the door." She whispered. Brynjolf nodded and took his place in front of the door. "Aye, lass. Nothing's getting by me." He replied.

With a loud thud, the right eye of the Falmer popped out of its socket, and Mercer hopped down, picking up the eye. "Climb down that ledge and see if you can-"

"Karliah, when will you learn you can't get the drop on me?" Mercer cast a spell upon himself that sent the cave into shudders, several cracks appearing in the rock walls.

With a single sentence, Karliah's plan was foiled, and the ledge beneath their feet began to tremble. "Get back! Everyone, get back!" Ysgrig exclaimed, running back towards the door as the ledge fell apart. Lyvette screamed, the ground beneath her breaking. At the last second, Valie grabbed Lyvette when the ledge collapsed beneath her. Lyvette wailed in terror, looking at the fall beneath her. "Take my hand!" Valelia yelled, offering her free hand to the petrified little girl. Lyvette quickly took her hand, and she was hoisted up to safety.

Sarila's trance was broken when she heard Lyvette's wailing. She watched Valelia pull her up, saving her life. Sarila gasped. _Valelia?! You're alive?!_

Sarila soon began to notice that Ysgrig, Brynjolf, Karliah, and Marcurio were there too.

 _Marcurio…_

Sarila felt her insides melt. She'd thought she would never see her handsome Imperial mage again.

She was brought back to the harsh reality when Valie spoke up.

"Give me the key, Mercer." Valelia ordered, her voice devoid of any kindness she had previously had. Mercer gave a hearty guffaw and shook his head, glaring at the woman. "What's Karliah been filling your head with? Tales of thieves with honor? Oaths rife with falsehoods and broken promises? Nocturnal doesn't care about you, the key, or anything having to do with the Guild." He harshly spat back. Karliah clenched her fists, gritting her teeth.

Ysgrig gave Sarila a look. He looked down at the rope on her neck, and back up at her face. He gave her a silent, subtle nod, and Sarila knew immediately what he meant.

Valie saw exactly what Sarila and Ysgrig were trying to do, and she gave a small, nearly invisible smile before speaking up. "I don't believe you. Nocturnal guides me." She maliciously grinned at Mercer, who scoffed in return. "Then it appears the shadows shroud more than your presence…they blind your wisdom as well." Mercer waited, hoping Valie would take the bait and attack him. When she remained calm and cool, he exhaled, frustrated, not realizing that Sarila had taken her ebony dagger from his sheath. The Nord woman brought it up to her neck, slowly and quietly cutting the rope.

"Our actions have always been one in the same; both of us lie, cheat, and steal to further our own end." Mercer continued. Valie shook her head, her icy eyes piercing his soul. "The difference is, I still have honor." She replied, glaring at the Breton. Sarila was halfway through her rope, and started to cut a bit faster. Mercer growled and clenched his fists. "It's clear you'll never see the Skeleton Key as I do…as an instrument of limitless wealth. Instead, you've chosen to fall over your own foolish code."

"If anyone falls, it will be you." Valie growled, unsheathing her sword. Mercer chuckled evilly and drew his own Dwarven sword. "Then the die is cast, and once again my blade will taste Nightingale blood!" He cried, and as soon as the words left his lips, Sarila had finished cutting through the rope. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the liberty of easier breathing, and started towards Mercer. The Breton cast a charm that not even Marcurio could recognize, and it guided itself towards Brynjolf, who suddenly felt a force controlling his body. "What's…what's happening…I can't control myself!" He yelled, drawing his sword. He made a swift slice that Ysgrig had barely dodged. "Damn you, Mercer!" Karliah shouted, raising her own sword to defend against Brynjolf's involuntary attacks. Valelia began to try and hop down the ledge, but Brynjolf quickly grabbed her, slamming her against the wall. "Brynjolf, lad! If ye can hear me, ye have to fight it! He's taken control of you!" She called, though it did little to stop the effect. Brynjolf went wild, attacking anyone and everyone nearby.

Sarila panicked, and Mercer turned around. His eyes went wide when he saw her with the rope off her neck, and her dagger back in her hands. "YOU!" He yelled, and Sarila's blood went cold. "You…little…BITCH!" He charged her, and Sarila narrowly stepped out of his path. "Please, Mercer! Don't do this!" She gasped, panic overtaking her. He lunged at her again, only this time, Sarila raised her dagger, ready to make the kill. She stopped when she realized what she was about to do, and lowered her dagger. Mercer saw his chance and pushed her to the ground, knocking her dagger several feet away. Sarila cried out, the intense fatigue on her muscles from trekking to the ruins kicking in. Mercer retrieved the dagger and kicked Sarila again as she tried to get up.

Sarila rolled over onto her back just as Mercer leapt on top of her. He began to aim the dagger at her heart, and Sarila grasped the hilt, struggling to push it away from her.

Lyvette watched it all from afar, her breaths becoming nothing but gasps and squeaks of terror as she stood idly by, the group struggling to keep Brynjolf under control. Her eyes narrowed and she shot Mercer a vile glare, her breaths still unnatural.

Mercer had began to push the tip of the knife into Sarila's sternum. The adrenaline pumping in Sarila's veins kept her from crying out in pain, and she continued to push the dagger away from her. She felt her arms grow weaker and weaker and the dagger went deeper into her chest. She gasped for air, not relenting in her struggles. Mercer seemed to be having a grand time, and he laughed merrily as he watched Sarila helplessly struggle against him, blood seeping out of her wound.

 _No, no…_

As Mercer cackled wickedly, blood spurted from his mouth. His eyes grew wide and his laughter stopped, his grip releasing on the dagger in Sarila's chest. He began to gurgle, choking on his own blood. He slowly turned around.

Lyvette backed away from him, her dagger firmly planted in the back of his neck. Mercer reached behind him and pulled the dagger out, dropping it on the ground. He reached his arm out, still choking on his own blood, and tried to crawl to Lyvette. He grew dizzy and rolled off the ledge. Lyvette picked up her dagger, and Sarila slowly got up, pulling the dagger from her chest. She pressed her hand to the wound to keep the blood from seeping out. Brynjolf suddenly stopped attacking the group, and looked over the ledge.

Mercer lay dead in a pool of his own blood, shattered bone fragments scattered about.

"Well, would you look at that..." Brynjolf panted, not sure whether to be surprised or disgusted. "By the Gods, Mercer Frey, killed by a _little girl!_ " Karliah exclaimed in shock. Valelia hopped down the ledge, the group following. She rooted through Mercer's pockets, pulling every jewel, Septim, and lockpick out, not forgetting the Skeleton Key or the eyes of the Falmer. Suddenly, Mercer's magic wore off, and there was a loud boom in the cave. Several chunks of rock fell from above, and water seeped into the cave. A large rock collapsed, blocking off the door, and more fell onto the ledge, quickly slipping off. "Oh, dear." Valie gulped. "We're trapped!" Lyvette squealed. Sarila held Lyvette close to her, tucking her ebony dagger back in her sheath. "We need to find a way out!" Ysgrig called, swimming around as the water rose higher. Every nook and cranny was searched, and no exit was found. "You know what I miss the most right now? Fresh air." Marcurio remarked. "Not the time, Marcurio!" Ysgrig growled, swimming around rapidly in hopes of finding a solution.

Brynjolf suddenly looked up. "Everyone, we need to wait for the water to go up!" "Up?! What do you mean?!" Sarila asked, shocked. "That pipe up there should lead to a cave, it's an answered prayer!" "And if it _doesn't_ lead to a cave?" Marcurio glared. Valie glared back. "Well, it's better than swimming around here until we end up like Mercer!" She retorted, looking at Mercer's body that floated nearby.

The group waited and waited for the water to rise. Sarila's already fatigued legs grew more and more tired, and finally, she sunk under the water. One by one, everyone poured into the cave. Ysgrig stopped in his tracks. "Sarila…where's my sister?!" He yelled, his eyes frantically searching for her. He took one look at the water and dove in headfirst. Sarila was struggling to swim, and he swam down and took her by the arm. Together, they kicked with all their might and made it through the pipe.

Sarila panted, keeling over taking in large gulps of air before she stood back up. She looked at Lyvette, pride in her eyes. "Oh, Lyvette!" Sarila laughed, and Lyvette ran over to Sarila, swallowing her up in a hug. "I've missed you. Oh, Gods above, I've missed you!" Lyvette didn't respond, but kept her arms firmly wrapped around Sarila.

Sarila soon turned to Valie after Lyvette released her. Sarila smiled immediately. "I don't know how you did it, Sharp-Sun, but you've come from the brink of death and back." She grinned, hugging her friend. Valie smiled, being careful as she squeezed Sarila, not wanting to open her wound any more than it had been.

Ysgrig approached his sister, and Valie released her, smiling. Ysgrig and Sarila embraced each other warmly, and Sarila began sobbing, Ysgrig stroking his sister's hair. "I thought…I thought I would never see any of you again. I'm so sorry!" She cried, tears of joy trailing down her cheeks. Ysgrig smiled and continued stroking her long, golden hair. "It's alright, sis. It's alright. We would always come back for you, and you know that I would never, _ever_ let you drown, especially not in these ruins."

Sarila lifted her head off his shoulders for a moment and looked back at Lyvette. She suddenly gave an evil smirk. "So, why, exactly, is Lyvette here?" She asked her brother, venom in her silky voice. Ysgrig stuttered for a moment before pointing back at Marcurio. "It was his idea, not mine." He lifted his hands up in surrender. Sarila's smirk never left her face as she approached Marcurio. " _You_ brought my little girl to these ruins?" She asked, crossing her arms as she awaited her answer. Marcurio, like Ysgrig, stuttered, but didn't make a smooth recovery like the Nord had done.

Marcurio felt a stinging pain in his right cheek a moment later. "Ow!" Sarila retracted her hand, satisfied with her work. Marcurio rubbed his cheek. Sarila smiled and wrapped her arms around Marcurio.

It seemed like Marcurio's heart had nearly stopped, and he returned her hug. He inaudibly sighed, ignoring the smug looks from Valie and Ysgrig and the disgusted face Lyvette made, sticking out her tongue. "Well, Lyvette is okay, and she _did_ kind of save my life back there. Thanks, Marcurio." She thanked, slowly releasing him. Marcurio nodded, turning away. He was blushing profusely and didn't want Sarila to see.

"I don't know where you learned to use a dagger, but I'm so proud, Lyvette. You're going to have quite the story to tell Kharjo when we get back to the inn." Sarila grinned, ruffling her hair.

She stopped when she noticed Lyvette frowning. She looked around the group, frowns on their faces as well. "Is something…wrong?" Sarila asked, her heart beginning to sink to her stomach. Ysgrig took his sister by the hand. "Sarila…Kharjo didn't make it. He…he…he came with us, and he tried so hard, but in the end…" Ysgrig stopped. Sarila's tears returned to her eyes. "I see." She replied simply.

Sarila felt little pain, but at the same time, she felt like she had just been kicked in the stomach. One of her first friends in Riften now lay dead, all because Mercer had taken her to the ruins. "Damn it, Mercer." She sighed, walking ahead of the group who followed with both heavy hearts and relief.

 **A/N: Heyyy, guys! What did you all think of this chapter? Let me know in the comments! Oh, but first…**

 **I would like to let Kharjo's unfortunate demise serve as a reminder for rule #1 of this story…**

 ** _NO ONE IS SAFE._**

 **It doesn't matter who it is, no one is safe from the glaring eyes of death.**

 ** _No one._**


	61. Story Time

"So you're sure you have to go?" Sarila asked Valie as she tucked the Skeleton Key in her backpack. Valelia nodded. "Aye, lass. Maybe not right away, but I've got to do what Karliah told me. It's of utmost importance."

Sarila nodded in understanding, but shivered when a gust of cold wind blew across the harsh climates of Skyrim. They had only gotten out of the pipe ten minutes earlier, and were still sopping wet from their near-death experience in the sanctum of Irkngthand. Sarila was still amazed they had even made it out unscathed.

 _Well, ALMOST unscathed._

Sarila peeled back the makeshift bandage Valie had made for her using linen wraps she'd found. She cringed when some of the dead skin peeled off. Valelia looked back over at her. "How's that feeling?" She asked. Sarila grimaced and shook her head. "Not so good. It stings pretty bad."

Valie nodded and rooted around in her backpack, pulling out a bright pink bottle with a golden cork in the top. "It's a potion of healing. I picked it up before we headed out to come get you. Y'should feel better in no time when you drink it, and I believe it gradually helps regenerate some of the skin and close up the wound." Valelia informed her.

The two women were soon approached by Brynjolf. "Sorry for interrupting, ladies, but I need to head back to Riften. I've got to clear Karliah's name as quickly as possible." Brynjolf pulled Valie in for a hug. "Alright. You and Karliah be safe, now." Valelia smiled. "Of course, lass." Brynjolf turned to Sarila. "I'm glad we got you back, Sarila, lass. You showed promise from day one, it's good to have you with us." "Thank you, Bryn. That means a lot." "Don't mention it." Brynjolf pulled Valie in for a quick peck on the cheek, subtly leaning in to whisper something to her. Valie nodded with a smile, and Brynjolf headed over to Karliah. The two walked off into the woods to make their way back to Riften.

"I'm sorry to break up your little chat, but I'm freezing to death out here." Marcurio complained, emerging from behind the trees. "Oh? That sounds like a personal problem, Imperial." Valie snorted, Sarila giggling quietly. "How can you Nords stand it here? This place is absolutely freezing!" He exclaimed. Sarila and Valie exchanged glances, both shrugging afterwards. "I s'pose it's in our blood. Nords are rumored to have some sort of tolerance to the stinging cold of Skyrim." Valie replied.

"Actually, I have to agree with Marcurio. It _is_ a bit chilly, and the sun's gone down. Plus, I'm feeling kind of dizzy from all that blood loss, and my legs are so tired." Sarila explained. "Why not stop for the night, then?" Valie shrugged. "Marcurio, have you gathered any sticks?" Sarila asked. The mage grinned. "Already one step ahead of you, Sarila!" He led them back to Lyvette and Ysgrig, who had gathered near a pile of sticks and twigs. "I suppose one of us has to light this thing, don't we?" "Why not light it together? You know, combining our magic." Marcurio piped enthusiastically. Sarila rolled her eyes and nodded. The two got on either side of the pile, readying their flames spells. Sarila quickly jolted her hands forward, a stream of flames flying into the pile, Marcurio following soon after.

Soon enough, their campfire came to life, and the calming feeling of smoke and flame radiated in the area. The group gathered around the fire, warming their hands. Ysgrig brought out the venison from Lyvette's kill earlier that day. "Who's hungry?" "ME!" Sarila exclaimed. "That hungry, huh?" Ysgrig asked, surprised at her reaction, along with everyone else. Sarila blushed. "Yes. Sorry, it's just that Mercer didn't give me a lot of food." She explained. "Don't worry, Sarila. It's fine. Besides, the bastard's dead now, thanks to this wonderful little warrior!" Ysgrig smiled at Lyvette, who stood proudly like a noble warrior.

Everyone ate the venison as soon as it was cooked, savoring the succulent meat from the kill. "Valelia?" Sarila suddenly spoke up, and Valie looked up. "What made you come to Skyrim?" Valelia swallowed her food and sighed, giving a small smile. "I guess I owe you a story now, don't I?" She chuckled, wiping her mouth off on her sleeve, much to Marcurio and Lyvette's disgust.

"You see, I used to live in Bruma on a farm with my family." Lyvette raised her hand to ask a question. "Yes, lass?" "What's a Bruma?" The girl quizzically asked. Valelia chuckled at the girl's curiosity. "Why, Bruma is a city in Cyrodiil. It's up in the north. It's where the Great Chapel of Talos is." She explained, and Lyvette nodded. "We didn't live in Bruma, exactly, but more on the outskirts. It was my mother, my father, my older sister, and I. The farm was just big enough to have four bedrooms and a dining hall. The outside was big, though. Big and beautiful with lots and lots of animals." She paused. "We had chickens, cows, goats, we even had a stable full of horses. I was the best at handling horses. From a young age, I always thought they were such gorgeous creatures." She smiled at the memories of watching horses gallop around on the farm.

Lyvette rubbed her eyes, struggling to stay awake, and Valie noticed. "You don't have to stay awake and listen to my story, Lyvette. You must be exhausted, you poor thing." She sympathetically smiled, and Lyvette slowly drifted off to sleep. Sarila sat Lyvette on her lap, cradling the sleeping girl. "Keep going." She whispered.

"One day when I was about six, my mother called us all outside. She'd seen the most beautiful horse you could even imagine. It had creamy, white fur, flawless black hooves, and its mane looked like it was speckled with dozens of tiny snowflakes. When my mother approached it, it got spooked and galloped away." She continued.

"For the next two years, my mother, father, and sister would try and get him calm enough to tame him, but they just kept on spooking him. One day, I went outside while my parents were off with my sister teaching her the trade of the market, and I saw the horse there. He saw me and started to get spooked, but I knew better. I knew not to walk directly in front of the horse, because he wouldn't be able to see me, and he would just run away again. I approached the horse nice and slow from the side with a nice, crispy carrot in my hand, and gently whispered to him. I managed to calm him down in a few seconds, and led him into the stables where I cleaned him, gave him food and water, and most importantly, a new name."

"What was the horse's name?" Marcurio asked, enjoying the story.

"Kyuna. Kyuna and I were best friends growing up. When the other little girls didn't want to play with me, Kyuna would always let me ride him around the farm, into the fields, anywhere, really. It was like that for a long time until just several months ago." She frowned.

"My sister was married off at age fifteen to the Count of Cheydinhal. I forgot his name the first week of even hearing of their marriage, and I wouldn't be surprised if my father did, too. It seemed like their marriage was strictly for influence and business ventures." She explained with a sigh. "Soon enough, my mother was getting on me about marriage. She wanted to marry me off to some nobleman in Leyawiin. I…" She paused, getting lost in her thought.

She sighed, running a hand through her messy auburn braids. "I didn't care for him. I loved someone else, he was just…" She paused again. "Who was he?" Ysgrig gently asked. "He was the son of a merchant in Bruma. His name was Glenber Cecelliun, a fine specimen of Imperial. We'd grown up together, played tag, hide and seek, it was fun. Eventually, we started to feel more and more drawn to each other as the years went by, and one day when I was sixteen, he kissed me under the moonlight by a river." She smiled at the memory, but her smile soon faded.

"But our romance grew and grew, and our parents didn't even know we were seeing each other. On the night of the 29th of Sun's Height, it all changed. He stole some wine and Colovian Brandy from Castle Bruma. We got drunk, ran off into a field, and made love under the moonlight. My father happened to be picking tomatoes that night, and…well, you can guess what happened next." Valie sheepishly smiled with a few laughs. The group laughed together for a few moments before Valie continued her story. "We ended up running naked through a field, covered in squashed tomatoes. Eventually, my dad caught up with us, and…he had found the empty bottles, reported Glenber to the authorities, claiming theft and rape, and…" Valelia stopped, wiping a tear from her eye. "They came and…and…took him away. I never got to say goodbye, they just…" She wiped more tears from her eyes. "They had Glenber killed." The group gave sympathetic apologies under their breaths, not wanting to see Valie cry.

"They had him killed on the 2nd of Last Seed. That was only a couple months ago, and I still can't forget it. On the day he was killed, I knew I had to get out of there. I never wanted to see my parents again, so for two weeks, I planned my departure. Finally, on the 15th of Last Seed, I packed my bags, waited till nightfall, hopped off Kyuna, and rode out of Cyrodiil. It took me a day to reach the border, but when I did, I wished I had waited. I walked right into that skirmish between the Stormcloaks and Imperials, and poor Kyuna got caught up in the crossfire. Poor horse didn't deserve to die like that. After my horse was taken care of, I was clocked on the back of the head and knocked out cold. Next thing you know, I'm in a cart to Helgen, and…well, the rest is history." She smiled.

"I'm glad to have met you all. You're good people. Better than my family, that's for sure. Though I occasionally wonder what became of my sister, I don't have any regrets for leaving my parents." Valie concluded. "It's a good thing you did, Valie, otherwise, you might not have found out you're the Dragonborn." Sarila commented. Valelia smiled and shook her head. "I'm still having trouble wrapping my head around it. It's hard to believe that I'm the Dragonborn. Of all the people on Nirn, it's me. It's amazing but kind of scary." She grinned, resting her head on her backpack.

Sarila gently set Lyvette down, and everyone lay down, staring up at the starry sky. Marcurio and Valie had been quick to fall asleep, though Ysgrig and Sarila hadn't noticed. "You know Ysgrig, I never would have thought, after all these years, the silly little boy who was afraid of skeevers would be rescuing me." She laughed quietly, rolling onto her side. Ysgrig chuckled. "People change, Sarila. It happens all the time." He whispered as sleep overtook him. Sarila nodded, closing her violet eyes and falling into a peaceful sleep for the first time in days.

Sarila wasn't aware of it at the time, but she had rolled over and snuggled up to Marcurio in her sleep.


	62. Mara's Plan

"Shall we head back to the Home and rest up?" Ysgrig asked.

Sarila, Lyvette, and Marcurio nodded in agreement, smiles on their faces. Lyvette had never been to the Home, and had yet to meet everyone there. Sarila was sure she would love it.

Valie had left early that morning, leaving Sarila a note and a potion of healing. Sarila had tucked the items in her backpack before the group departed. The death of Kharjo was still fresh in everyone's minds, especially Lyvette's. She regretted not wanting to spend as much time as she did with Kharjo. She wished he would come back, even for a day, and they would go fishing, play with her dolls, and she would even sit and listen to him teach her new words to improve her vocabulary. She frowned when she remembered that he would never come back, and felt guilty for not spotting the Falmer.

"It's my fault." Lyvette mumbled, her lip quivering. "What is? Lyvette, what's wrong?" Sarila asked, looking over at the little girl. Lyvette slowed her pace a bit and sighed. "If I had been paying attention, I would have seen the Falmer and moved out of the way. If I had moved, Kharjo would be okay." "No, no! Lyvette, it's not your fault! I know it's scary when someone dies, and you might feel that you're to blame, but that's not true. Kharjo willingly gave his own life so you could be safe, it wasn't your fault." Ysgrig explained, Sarila feeling immense sorrow for the child.

Sarila had wished that Lyvette didn't have to be exposed to what she had seen. She wanted to protect whatever was left of Lyvette's dwindling innocence. "Lyvette, have you had anymore dreams lately?" Sarila asked. Lyvette shook her head. "No. I don't like those dreams. They're scary. I'm glad they're gone." Sarila nodded, though she had a feeling that Lyvette wouldn't be free from her nightmares for awhile.

The spirit of the group was low, and each of them tried to forget what they had been through in the ruins. Not even Marcurio was willing to recant a story from his adventures, though it mattered little, since Lyvette didn't feel like talking to anyone.

For the entirety of the trek to the home, the group was quiet and had remained undisturbed by any wildlife lurking around. Mattha greeted them at the door with a big smile, but her smile soon faded when she saw the group's somber demeanor. She opened the door without a word, noting the presence of Lyvette, who she had never seen before.

"Ysgrig, Chalvia has been asking for you. You should go see her." Mattha suggested with a small smile. "Thank you, Mattha." Ysgrig replied, wandering to Chalvia's room in the hall. Mattha turned to Lyvette, her smile growing. "Well, aren't you just a pretty little thing? Sarila, shall I get her something to eat?" Mattha asked. Sarila turned to Lyvette. "Are you hungry?" "A little." "Yes please, Mattha. Thank you." Mattha nodded. "It's no trouble. Come on, let's go get you some food." Mattha crooned, walking to the dining hall with Lyvette.

Marcurio was about to head off to the guest room when he stopped in his tracks.

 _Something about Sarila looks…different._

Marcurio stopped and observed Sarila, scratching his bearded chin, before he realized he still had her amulet she had dropped. He reached into his pack and pulled out the inscribed amulet of Talos. "Here. You dropped it somewhere in the ruins, I found it on the ground." He handed the amulet to Sarila, who was shocked. Her surprise morphed into joy. "My amulet! I didn't even notice it was gone! Thank you so much, Marcurio!" She thanked, slipping the amulet back over her neck, swallowing Marcurio up in a hug.

Marcurio hummed a quiet response, wrapping his arms around her as well. It was the second time in a span of two days she had hugged him, and it sent his heart racing. He was caught up in her hug, enjoying the soft caress of her long, golden hair against his cheek.

Sarila pulled away, heading to the guest room. Marcurio sighed, having enjoyed the hug, but he missed her embrace greatly. He was lucky, he thought, to be employed by such a beautiful woman.

He paused for a moment, forgetting that he had even been a mercenary. He had been so infatuated with the gorgeous Sarila that he wanted to work for her forever. It hadn't even seemed like work to him; her company always brought joy to his heart, excitement and energy coursing through his veins like a rushing river.

In the guest room, Sarila sighed, palming the amulet in her hands. "I can't believe he even thought to bring this back to me…he really _does_ care…" She murmured to herself. She slid the tip of her finger through the grooves of the word 'Ytri'. "Oh, Ytri. I wish you were here. You would know what to do." She whispered to the amulet. "You…you had Terdel, you know. And I like…no, _love_ Marcurio so much…he's risked so much for me…I just don't know if he feels the same." She continued. "What if I'm just his employer and nothing more? Or just a…friend?"

Qattindra, who happened to be walking by, heard quiet mumbling coming from the guest room. She knocked on the door.

"Yes?" She heard Sarila call out.

"May I come in?" "Of course."

Qattindra quietly opened the door, gently closing it behind her. The dim flicker of the candles was the only thing that illuminated the otherwise dim room. "Who are you talking to?" Qattindra asked, noting that the room was empty. "Well, this is a bit embarrassing…I'm talking to my amulet, it…makes me feel better." She answered, glancing back down at the amulet around her neck. Qattindra nodded in understanding. "You don't have to say anything more, I completely understand. We all have comfort objects that make us feel better by looking at them or even just thinking of them."

"Qattindra, I need your help." Sarila beckoned Qattindra to come closer with her finger. Qattindra nodded and edged closer. "I'm in love with Marcurio, but I don't know if he feels the same. He's just so…wonderful." Qattindra was surprised for a brief moment but nodded. "I see. Does anyone else know?" She questioned. "Well, Omir knows for sure. Ysgrig…might know." She recanted, scouring her mind for anyone else.

"Well, if you want to see if he feels the same, why not find an amulet of Mara?" Sarila was taken aback. "Wait, wait, wait! Isn't the amulet of Mara for a marriage proposal?" "Well, sure! If you wear it in front of him though, it just might catch his attention!" Qattindra beamed, giving Sarila a nod of reassurance. Sarila wondered if Qattindra's plan could work. Before she could say anything, Qattindra spoke again. "If you're unsure of what to do, you could try asking around to see if Marcurio has mentioned anything about you." Qattindra quickly opened the door to make sure no one was around before closing it and returning to Sarila. "If I were you, I'd think about asking your little girl if he's said anything. Children are natural tattle-tales, so if you want any information, she's the girl to ask." Qattindra laughed, Sarila chuckling with her.

"Well, I'll see what I can do. Thank you so much, Qattindra!" Sarila smiled. "Always happy to help! We Nord women have to stick together!" She beamed, suddenly looking aghast. "What happened to you?!" She asked, pointing at Sarila's wound. "We had a bit of an altercation. It's well on its way to healing." "I'll say! That's going to leave a nasty scar." Sarila looked down at her wound and back up at Qattindra with a grin. "Scars don't bother me." She replied, trailing her left index finger across her scarred right cheek. Qattindra nodded and smiled, walking out of the room.

Sarila lay on her bed, closing her eyes. It was the first time she had slept on a bed for quite some time, and it rejuvenated her muscles. She drifted off to sleep with a smile, thinking of her handsome Imperial mage.


	63. A Chance For Glory

The month following the Irkngthand encounter was blissful for Sarila.

Well, as blissful as it could be for a member of the Thieves' Guild.

Her wound had healed in roughly two weeks with some bandages and a few potions from Sa'etha. Qattindra was right, though; a nasty scar had announced its presence on Sarila's sternum. Some of the members of the Thieves' Guild had taken to calling her "Scarila" on account of her two large scars.

Valie had returned to the Thieves' Guild in about two days after her departure to the Twilight Sepulcher. As soon as she had returned, the guild's bad luck ended. Sarila didn't know what Valelia had done to bring back their good fortune, but she assumed it either had something to do with the strange Skeleton Key Mercer had obtained, the mysterious Nightingales they spoke of, or perhaps even both. All Sarila cared about was that Valie had returned safe, and the gold was flowing like water. Sarila had never seen such large amounts of gold in her life. Now, she thought, she _definitely_ had enough to keep her and Lyvette fed, healthy, and housed.

A pressing matter came to Sarila's mind, however. She had always thought of the Bee and Barb as her home, but it wasn't a _real_ home. At least, not like the home she and Ysgrig lived in and children. She'd heard several rumors of a house by the name of Honeyside for sale. Sarila had walked by the house a few times, though, and decided it wasn't for her. It _did_ have a lovely overlook of the lake, and a deck with seating, but it was quite expensive, and would be even more expensive to furnish. She also knew that half of the house wasn't even in city walls, and the thought of living a vulnerable life made her insecure.

Sarila would sometimes sleep down in her bed in the cistern, thoroughly checking her pockets every morning she woke up in case Thrynn or Vipir got funny ideas and wanted to practice their pickpocketing. She had once caught Vipir rustling through her satchel once, giving him a glare akin to Mercer's. The man only scoffed, however, and returned what he's stolen. "Honestly, girl. I'm more scared _for_ you than _of_ you."

One morning, Sarila had been eating breakfast at the table when Niruin stopped by. Sarila swallowed the last bite of her apple and looked up. "Can I help you, Niruin?" She asked with a smile. "Delvin asked for you, personally. It seems he's got an important job." The Bosmer explained. The marksman had Sarila's full attention. "An important job? Did he say what it was?" "No. Just something about 'a deal that's too good to be true' and 'something we've been waiting countless years for'." He quoted with a shrug. Sarila got off her seat on the bench and took another swig of her mead. "Alright, I'll be right with him." She replied, walking towards the entrance to the Ragged Flagon. She quickly turned around.

"And get your filthy mitts off my mead, elf!" She called. Niruin sighed and put her bottle of mead back on the table. "No promises the others won't touch it!" He called after her with a smug grin.

Sarila entered the Ragged Flagon, the normally quiet room abuzz with the news. She approached Delvin who was reviewing several papers as he sipped on his ale. The Breton looked eager, anxious, and overjoyed. Sarila caught Delvin's eye, and the Breton smiled. "Well, well! If it ain't Scarila! Just the woman I was lookin' for. You see, we've got a lot to talk about, you and I." He flipped through the papers until he found the one he was looking for, placing it before Sarila. "We actually got a request from one of the most powerful families in Whiterun, the Battle-Born's. Make your way up there and look for Olfrid. He says he's got a matter that requires a delicate touch, and I suggested you for the job. Don't make me the fool and let me down, all right?" Sarila smiled and nodded. "Of course, Delvin. I won't fail the guild, not after all they've done for me." She assured him. "Oh, and one more thing." Delvin added, stopping Sarila in her tracks. She turned back around to face him. "Yes?" "Could you be a dear and fetch Sharp-Sun for me? I've got a similar task for her." Sarila nodded. "I'll go get her. Don't worry about the job, I'll get it done quickly, quietly, and with no blood spilled." Delvin smiled. "Attagirl. We've taught you well."

Sarila walked into the cistern and walked back to the table. She lifted her bottle of mead and poured its contents down her throat. She irately sighed, slamming it back onto the table. "Dammit. Empty. I should've known." She walked over to her bed, digging through her chest. She pulled her ebony dagger out, tucking it carefully in her sheath. She pulled out a few potions of healing, along with five paralytic poisons. She knew she wouldn't be doing any fighting, or at least she hoped she wouldn't. She simply wanted to utilize the poisons in case she'd been spotted and needed a diversion.

She placed all her items in her backpack, firmly fastening the straps around her shoulders. She had gotten used to her Thieves' Guild armor, but knew the guards would have their eyes on her the minute she walked through the Whiterun gate. She decided not to risk it, taking off her backpack to step out of her armor. With her pale blue dress and boots, she looked like a common farm girl; innocent and sweet. She tightened Ytri's amulet around her neck and put her backpack back on. She walked over to Valelia's bed to wake her, only to discover the bed empty and untouched. "What in Oblivion?" She mumbled.

Sarila looked around the cistern, not spotting Valie. She knew she had to be quiet, as some of the others were sleeping. She found Rune dangling his feet off the ledge and into the water. She walked over to the young man. "Good morning, Rune! Have you seen Valie anywhere?" She inquired. He looked up and shook his head. "No, no, not since last night in the Flagon. She's probably hungover somewhere, what with all those meads and wines she had last night."

"Oh, perfect. Just what I need. Delvin asks me to bring Valelia to him for a special job, and what do I end up with? No Valie in sight, and probably recovering from overdrinking." Sarila sighed. "Well, thank you anyway, Rune. I appreciate it." Rune gave her a curt nod and smile. Sarila walked towards the table, picking up her empty mead bottle. She chucked it at Niruin who was practicing his archery on a nearby dummy. The bottle hit him squarely in the back of the head, shattering as it hit the ground. Niruin gave a shout of pain, dropping his bow to rub the back of his head. He turned around to see Sarila with her arms crossed. "I know it was you, Niruin. Next time, it won't be your head I'll throw the bottle at." She declared, heading over to the training room to search for Valie.

As Sarila stormed away, Rune grimaced. "Good thing she didn't smell the mead on my breath." He remarked sheepishly.


	64. Quarrels

Sarila entered the training room, not expecting to find Valie, but was surprised when she did.

She was even more surprised to find Brynjolf.

What stunned her the most was that they were sleeping together in a pile of hay.

Without clothes.

Valie began to stir, mumbling something incoherent in her sleep-clouded stupor. She rubbed her eyes and yawned, slowly opening them. Her ice-blue eyes came to rest on Sarila. "Oh, good morning Sarila." Valie greeted, not caring about Sarila's sudden intrusion. "Oh, err…good morning, Valie. Sorry for…interrupting, I suppose." She cringed.

The reality suddenly came to Valie, and she made sure the hay was covering her delicates. "Oh, Gods, no. No, no, we…we weren't! I mean…we were just…" Sarila stopped her friend with a raised hand and a sheepish smile. "Honestly, it's none of my business. I came to get you because Delvin's got a special job. Get dressed, it's apparently of utmost importance." Sarila walked away, shuddering.

Valelia cursed under her breath, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She gently nudged Brynjolf, his emerald green eyes slowly opening. "Morning, lass. How's your head?" He asked, picking a piece of hay from her auburn locks. "It feels like all the Gods have unleashed their wrath upon me, but other than that, I'm as healthy as a cave troll." She smiled, standing up to find her clothes.

Sarila left the cistern as quickly as possible to find Marcurio. He was probably still sleeping, she thought. It was only seven in the morning.

She entered the Bee and Barb, ordering a bottle of Nord mead from Keerava. She downed her mead quicker than a galloping deer, rushing upstairs to find Marcurio. She found him at the table absorbedly reading a bright green book in the dim candlelight. "Marcurio, could you please watch over Lyvette? I'm going to Whiterun." She announced, making the Imperial wizard jump.

"What for?" "Delvin has tasked me with a very important job, something about the Battle-Born clan." Sarila answered. Marcurio scratched his chin and sighed. "Will you, by any chance, be going alone?" His question brought a temporary silence to Sarila. "Err…yes?" Marcurio closed his book and shook his head, standing up from the chair. "I'm sorry, but I cannot allow you to go alone, especially after what happened last time." Sarila huffed in annoyance. "I wasn't alone last time, Valelia was with me!" She retorted. "Well, she didn't do a good job protecting you, that's for sure." He replied. "She saved my life!" "She also brought you to a death trap." "That was Mercer!" "I'm going with you, end of discussion."

Sarila was about to slap Marcurio across the face when a tiny voice interrupted her seething rage.

"Can I come?"

Sarila turned around to see Lyvette peeping through the half-open door to her room. "Of course you can." Sarila smiled, stunning Marcurio. "WHAT?! Why does _she_ get to come and not me?!" "Because she asked nicely." Sarila smirked at the shocked Marcurio, who quickly recomposed himself. "Oh, Sarila, lovely lady Sarila, may I please come with you? I promise, I'll be a good little wizard." Marcurio batted his eyelashes with a hopeful grin. Lyvette giggled and Sarila rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine. You can come. But promise me one little thing, Marcurio." She smiled sweetly, beckoning him closer with her finger. Marcurio nodded, edging closer to her until their faces were only inches away. Marcurio looked into her gentle violet eyes, slowly getting lost in the twinkling beauties. She smacked him on the cheek, earning a small yelp from Marcurio, who then rubbed the stinging sensation of pain. "Never make that face again." She laughed, walking away. Lyvette never relented in her giggling, and she dragged Marcurio by the arm. "Come on, mister Marky! Let's go!" She exclaimed with glee.


	65. Shouldering Fate

**A/N: Hey, hey! How're my favorite humans doing? I'm dropping in just to give you guys a brief update before the story!**

 **Okeydokey, where to start? I'm changing the rating to M for a couple different reasons. There's been some pretty graphic descriptions of death and violence, and there will, of course, be more to come (so get excited, action fans!)**

 **And, another really big addition to the story; there may or may not be a lemon scene later on, so keep those peepers peeled!**

 **Well, I'm pretty much done. Sorry for not updating on Sunday or Saturday, I know I told some of my readers I would, but I'm making up for it with this chapter and the others I posted today. So…story, commence!**

The trio remained rather quiet on the carriage ride to Whiterun. Sarila didn't want to bother Ysgrig for assistance; he had to stay at the home and help out. He also wanted to spend some time with Chalvia, who was slowly starting to show as her pregnancy progressed.

Lyvette would occasionally ask to play a game with Sarila and Marcurio, to which she was never denied. "Okay, so this game's called 'Flying Horkers'. I made it myself!" She proudly announced to the pair. Sarila smiled awkwardly. "That's great, Lyvette, but…how do we play?" She asked. Lyvette stopped for a moment and pondered Sarila's question. "Umm…I don't really know. We could maybe braid each other's hair instead." Lyvette suggested. Sarila nodded with a grin. "That sounds fun! Whose hair should we braid first, mine or yours?" Sarila asked.

Lyvette grinned and turned to Marcurio, who perked up. "Me?! No, no, no. I'm not going to sit here like some dress-up doll and let you style my hair with your flowers and leaves."

Half an hour later, the carriage had arrived at Whiterun's stables. The carriage driver looked back to announce their arrival, and the group all got off. The driver sheepishly grinned and pointed at Marcurio's hair. "You've got something in your hair, fella." He kindly informed. Marcurio nodded with a forced smile. "I know." He replied, picking bits of mountain flowers from his hair. He undid the braids and tied his hair back in his regular ponytail before catching up with the girls.

Sarila asked the blacksmith, Adrianne Avenicci, for Olfrid Battle-Born's whereabouts. The helpful blacksmith directed her over to the Bannered Mare. Sarila thanked Adrianne and headed over to the tavern, Lyvette and Marcurio in hot pursuit.

Sarila recognized Olfrid immediately; he was the only one in the bar with elegantly-tailored clothes. She approached him, waiting until he was finished ordering a wine. He turned to her, eyeing her doubtfully. "Can I…eh…help you, miss?" Sarila nodded. "Delvin Mallory sent me." Olfrid let out a brief bellow of laughter. "You? Delvin sent _you_ to help? Has the man gone nuts?" Sarila crossed her arms and raised a frustrated eyebrow. "I have backup, I'm not doing this alone." She pointed to Marcurio and Lyvette. Lyvette waved cheerfully at Olfrid. Olfrid looked back at Sarila and glared. "You can't possibly be serious, can you? I mean, look at you! You're just a couple of teenagers and a little girl!"

"People tend to underestimate us and our capabilities. Besides, that little girl's done more than you can imagine; she's not just some iron ball chained to our ankles to drag us down." Sarila replied in a calm and cool manner. Olfrid sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. He opened them a moment later and licked his lips. "Alright. You're not a moment too soon, that much, I can confirm. If anything should happen to Arn, there'll be hell to pay." The Battle-Born patriarch clenched his fists. "Calm down, sir. Who's Arn?" Sarila questioned. "A close friend of mine. We fought together on the battlefield for many years until old age got the better of us." He answered, smiling as he remembered back to his war days. His face turned grim a moment later. "Now it's up to me to save him one more time…this time from the executioner's block in Solitude."

Sarila gasped and placed a comforting hand on Olfrid's shoulder. "That's horrible, Olfrid. I'm so sorry." She apologized. "But wait, if he's going to be executed in Solitude, why am I here in Whiterun?" She inquired. "The city guard in Solitude is seeking Arn for a serious crime. When he fled here, he was arrested for drunken behavior. Can you imagine?" Sarila shook her head with sympathy. A glint of hope appeared in Olfrid's aging eyes a moment later. "Fortunately, his identity isn't known to the authorities in Whiterun, so there's still a chance to save him." He explained.

"Go on, I'm listening." Sarila gently urged. "I want to have Arn's name stricken from the record books permanently. I'm setting him up with a new identity. It's the only way to permanently throw the city guard off his trail." He concluded. Sarila admired the elder's dedication to his friend. "Alright, what should I do?" "The job is two-fold. First, steal a letter that was sent from Solitude warning Whiterun's guard to be on the lookout for Arn. The second is to change Arn's name in the prison registry to his new identity." Sarila nodded, making a mental note of her instructions. "Any advice before I head off?" She asked.

"Yes, actually. You see, both of these items are kept inside Dragonsreach, and they don't allow visitors inside the Jarl's or Steward's chambers." Sarila smiled. "You can rest easy, Olfrid. Arn will be safe soon, you can count on it. This isn't the first time I've broken into a palace." She assured him, thinking back to the time she infiltrated the Blue Palace in Solitude. "Alright. Well, you watch yourself out there." He called to her as she strode out of the tavern.

Marcurio waited until Sarila and Lyvette had left before walking up to Hulda, the bartender. "Two bottles of your finest wine, please." He requested. "Alto?" "No thank you, miss." "Twenty Septims." Marcurio paid the bartender, and was promptly served two bottles of wine. "Thank you, miss. Wish me luck out there." He smiled as he walked out of the tavern.

Hulda stood behind her bar, wiping some stray drops of wine from the counter. She smiled as she watched Marcurio saunter out of the tavern. "Must be for the lovely lady he was with." She commented to herself.


	66. Friends In High Places

"I'm looking for work, someone directed me towards the steward, and I was told he'd be found here." Sarila explained to the guard at the front of Dragonsreach. The fellow in Whiterun chainmail armor curiously eyed Marcurio and Lyvette, who stood firmly by Sarila's side. "And them?" He asked, crossing his arms.

"They're my mercenaries. The little girl's in training." Sarila coolly answered, praying to Stendarr the guard would believe her. The guard nodded in understanding. "Go right in, but be mindful of your words." The trio walked to the large wooden door to Dragonsreach. "Hold on, little girl. I want to speak to you." He called. Sarila nervously looked down at Lyvette, who looked back up at her in confusion. "Go ahead, sweetie. We'll be right here." Sarila told her, and she nodded, shyly walking over to the guard.

The guard knelt down so he was eye-level with Lyvette. "Good luck out there, little one. When I was a boy, my father took me out hunting. It's not the safest thing in the world for a child, let alone a little girl, but I have high hopes for you." Lyvette flashed him a toothy grin. "Gee, thanks, mister!" She giggled as she skipped back over to Sarila and Marcurio, who held the door open for her.

The trio slowly walked up to the throne of Jarl Balgruuf. Irileth, the Jarl's housecarl, eyed them suspiciously, concerned for her Jarl's safety, but said nothing. Sarila took a brief bow before Jarl Balgruuf. "Jarl Balgruuf, my lord, I come seeking your steward, Proventus Avenicci. My mercenaries and I are here to receive the instructions to slay the giant that threatens the hold." Jarl Balgruuf nodded briefly before opening his mouth to speak.

"Avenicci should be in his quarters. He's been writing letters to General Tullius since this morning, so don't take it personal if he's a bit grumpy. If any guards ask who you are, just tell them I sent you. The door to the chambers is upstairs; you can walk right in."

Sarila hadn't expected it to be this easy. She thanked the Jarl before heading upstairs to the chambers.

The trio quietly made their way through the hall, ducking behind a ledge that overlooked the hall. Sarila turned to Marcurio. "Marcurio, listen carefully. I'm going to need you to cause a distraction and get the guards' attention." "What kind of distraction?" "Why don't you ask them for advice on fighting giants? That's what we're here to do, isn't it?" She smirked, Marcurio catching on. "In all seriousness, though, don't do anything…provocative. No magic, no sarcasm, certainly none of your 'glorious mage stories', they're not going to listen to that. And don't do anything that might be perceived as violent; the last thing we need is a sea of guards to surround us." Marcurio nodded. "I understand." "Alright, when I wink, start the distraction. I've been training under Delvin Mallory, so I'll be able to sneak right by undetected. I just need you to distract them while I grab the letter and make the changes to the prison registry."

Sarila quickly scampered over to the nearest door, opening it ever so slightly. The steward was sitting in a chair, scribbling hasty notes, occasionally tearing the piece of paper up to start a new letter.

Sarila quietly snuck into the room and turned to her left, noticing the prison registry right out in the open. "Fools." She whispered to herself, grabbing a quill and inkpot from the dresser. She quickly wrote down the first name she could formulate in her mind, put the quill and inkpot back, and snuck back out. Marcurio and Lyvette waited patiently for Sarila, and she returned to her hiding spot with them. "Well, that was easy." She remarked. She turned to her friends, their gazes focused on her. "Both of you, follow me. Marcurio, take the stairs on the opposite side. Lyvette's going to need to stick close to me." Marcurio nodded, sneaking over to the opposite side. Sarila and Lyvette crept to the stairs, slowly ascending. Marcurio met them at the top. Sarila winked, signaling the start of Marcurio's distraction. Marcurio nodded and emerged at the top of the stairs. He approached the nearest guard.

"Pardon me, sir, but I do believe I've found myself to be in a bit of a bind…you see, I am commissioned to fight and kill a giant along with my friends, but…I do not know of any good battle techniques to speak of. Could you, by any chance, give me some advice?"

The guard scoffed at Marcurio, noting his mage robes. "It's no surprise that a wizard needs better combat training. Listen closely. I've slain bandits, bears, even a giant in my younger days." The guard continued, Marcurio pretending to listen. Sarila and Lyvette snuck up the stairs, and went into the room opposite to the Jarl's chambers. There, on the wooden desk, was a letter.

 _Perfect._

Sarila was just about to pick the letter up when she heard someone coming. She ducked down behind the desk, waiting for whoever it was to leave.

Lyvette, however, wasn't as quick to think.

"Hey…who are you?" A quiet voice asked.

Lyvette blinked. Before her was a girl about her age dressed in a finely embroidered gown. "Are you just gonna stand there all day, freak?" The girl sneered. Lyvette hung her head in shame, backing away slowly. Marcurio noticed what had happened and asked the guard another question to buy some time.

The girl saw Lyvette's feelings had been hurt, and she gasped slightly. "Oh, no, no, don't feel bad. Please? It's just…I've never seen another girl. At least, no girls my age. There's Irileth, but she's all old and mean, and sometimes Lydia comes to speak to papa." Lyvette perked up a bit as she listened to the girl. "My name is Dagny. Want to be friends?" "Sure, I'll be your friend. My name's Lyvette."

Sarila remained quiet, easing her breathing a little. Dagny looked down at Lyvette's armor. "What kind of clothes are those?" She asked curiously. "It's armor. Mama said it would keep me safe." "Papa doesn't let us leave Dragonsreach. He wants us to be safe too, but from what?" The two remained silent for a moment before Lyvette spoke up. "Hey, want me to braid your hair?" "Braid my hair? What's that?" Lyvette turned around to show Dagny her braids. "My mama did these braids for me. I can try to braid yours, too." "Really? Wow! Thanks! Come on, my room is this way." Lyvette nodded and followed her new friend to her room.

As happy as Sarila was for witnessing Lyvette make a new friend, she had to grab the letter and leave. She whisked the letter off the desk and quickly crept out the door. Marcurio saw Sarila leave from the corner of his eye and waited until the guard had finished giving him instructions. "Well, thank you, sir! I'll be off to slay that giant, all thanks to you!" He flashed the fellow a grin and sauntered down the stairs. He met with Sarila at their original hiding spot. "Are we ready to head out?" He asked. Sarila stole a glance back up the stairs. "Lyvette's still up there. We can't just leave her."

"Sure we can. She's got a new friend, she'll be fine. Let them play for awhile. This place is heavily guarded, and she knows where to find us." Marcurio explained. Sarila exhaled and nodded, walking over to the door, leading Marcurio down the steps and through the throne room. The two exited Dragonsreach without anyone suspicious of their presence. Olfrid was beyond thrilled, but he masked his excitement with his usual demeanor. He sent Sarila and Marcurio off with a valuable ring and the knowledge that the Guild had his full support and the weight it carried in Whiterun.

Sarila knew that she had just played a major role in helping the Guild back on its feet, sending it back down the path to return to glory.

She hoped that Valelia was having the same luck in Solitude.


	67. Celebratory Embrace

Sarila ate a small meal of carrots and cooked beef by the fire of the Bannered Mare. She returned to her room soon after, hoping to read a book or turn in for the night. She was surprised when Marcurio entered the room behind her, carrying a bottle of wine in each hand. "Marcurio! You have…wine. What's the special occasion?" She asked, eyeing the beverages. Marcurio grinned, handing Sarila one of the bottles as he sat across from her at the small table in their room. "I figured we could use something to celebrate a job well done today. Also, it's to mark the first time no one's gone missing or injured after completing a job, so I suppose that's always a plus." He joked, popping the cork from his bottle.

Sarila pried the cork from her bottle as well, and Marcurio raised his bottle in the air. "Here's to the cleverest sneak I know…and the most skillful wizard, too." He smirked cockily, and Sarila gently clinked her bottle with his. "Don't flatter yourself." She chuckled, taking a big swig of her wine. She gave a slight shudder as the beverage slid down her throat, awakening her senses.

"How do you suppose Lyvette is faring with her new friend?" Marcurio asked, Sarila wiping her mouth with a napkin. "Well, as nice as Lyvette is, and as eager as that little girl seemed, I'd say they're hitting it off quite well." She cheerfully acknowledged. "I miss my childhood days. You know, back in the time where everything was a first. First pet, first drink, first fistfight, first spell…that was a messy one, let me tell you." Marcurio laughed, thinking back to the first time he had ever attempted a spell.

"A couple of the boys who lived near my parents' house had found a flames spell tome. We were all trying to get a glimpse at it, and I decided I wanted to test out my newfound powers. We gathered anything we could and lit it ablaze. An apple, some firewood, a book, an empty inkpot, anything, really. One boy brought some bottled oil he'd found in his father's workshop. Needless to say, none of us ever made that mistake again." He laughed, taking another drink of his wine as Sarila grinned. Some of the wine splashed out of Marcurio's mouth as he laughed, dripping onto his chin.

"Here, let me get that for you." Sarila offered, setting her bottle down as she wiped his chin with her napkin.

Marcurio grinned, blushing at the surprising yet welcome contact. "Marcurio, your face is getting red. I think you've had enough wine for tonight." Sarila giggled, trying to take his bottle from him. "No, the wine isn't doing anything to me. I can usually hold about three bottles of the stuff." "Sure, you can. That's why your cheeks are all lit up. You should probably stop, you'll get a hangover in the morning." Sarila reached out to grab the bottle once more.

Marcurio caught her wrist in his hand, and Sarila looked up at him, a dim shade of pink appearing on her cheeks. "M-Marcurio?" "I'm never myself when I'm with you, Sarila. The mere thought of you brings desires to my heart that you could never dream of." He whispered, his gaze piercing her very soul. Sarila looked into Marcurio's eyes, only to come to a realization.

 _His eyes aren't bloodshot. He's sober._

"You…do you…did you really mean that?" She asked, looking up at him through her eyelashes. Marcurio nodded, his smile looking more and more seductive to Sarila, whose heart was pounding out of her chest. "You're beautiful, Sarila. Perfect in every way." He murmured, pulling her closer to stroke her golden hair. "I've been feeling the exact same about you, Marcurio, I…I wasn't sure how to tell you." She whispered, burring her face into his shoulder.

"There is a way you can tell me." He whispered. "How so?" She asked, briefly pulling away from him, though not releasing her loving grasp on his arms. Marcurio smiled and closed his eyes, leaning in.

 _Oh, Gods. Oh, Gods. He's going to kiss me! He's actually going to kiss me!_

The overly excited Sarila, unsure how to enter a kiss, closed her eyes and lunged forward, smashing her mouth against his. Marcurio gave a startled yet joyful laugh, gently moving his rough lips against her soft ones.

 _Oh, Gods! Oh, Gods above! He's KISSING me! We're kissing!_

Marcurio gently nibbled on Sarila's lower lip, eliciting a soft moan from Sarila's throat. Marcurio seized his opportunity and gently slipped his curious tongue into her mouth, eagerly exploring this newfound territory. Sarila could taste the wine on his breath; strong and sweet, and gently cupped his cheek with her right hand.

The two broke the kiss a moment later for air, stars in their eyes as their newfound love had become official. "I love you."

"I love you, I love you."

"I love you so much."

The words seemed to flow from their mouths with ease, their hearts pounding louder and louder each time the words were spoken.

The two stopped when they heard a quiet knock on their door.

"Come in." Sarila called, standing up. Lyvette bounded through the door, giggling as she swayed her braided locks around. Two separate strands of hair bounced around, both braided with several small flowers poking out of the curls. "Dagny braided my hair. Aren't they pretty?" She laughed, curtseying with glee. Sarila and Marcurio smiled. "They certainly are, Lyvette! You did a good job teaching her, didn't you?" Lyvette grinned at her praise, swooping around the room again. She tripped and fell, quickly getting up to resume her prancing as Sarila and Marcurio looked on, reveling in the knowledge that they had each other until the end of their days.


	68. Paying A Visit

"You're sure you don't need me to accompany you?" Marcurio asked as Sarila put on her backpack, slipping her arms through each strap with ease. "It'll be fine, Marcurio. I'm just going to get some goods fenced from Mallus Maccius. I'm taking Lyvette along in case he's got some sweetrolls for sale." Sarila explained, tucking her dagger in its sheath. "Well, alright then. But don't take too long; I get bored _very_ easily." He smirked. Sarila rolled her eyes and smiled. "I know. Don't worry, we won't be long. Come on, Lyvette." Sarila called to Lyvette, who had just put on her shoes. "Coming!" She replied, jumping up from her seat.

The two girls left the Bannered Mare, making their way to the Honningbrew Meadery. Sarila had stopped by Warmaiden's to thank Adrianne Avenicci for directing her to Olfrid Battle-Born. "It's no trouble, traveler. Whether it be directions or a trusty new blade, Warmaiden's has got it." She gave a curt nod and smile to the pair as they walked out the front gate. Sarila stopped, sifting through her satchel. She felt several mounds of Septims inside, and she rushed back into Whiterun. Adrianne Avenicci turned around when she heard the front gate open once more, and stopping mending the iron armor she was working on to turn around. "Ah, Sarila! Back so soon?" She smiled.

Sarila nodded. "I think it would be best if I had some more weaponry. If this dagger gets lost or breaks in the middle of a fight…well, I just don't want that to happen and end up defenseless." She looked down at Lyvette, who was busy watching a butterfly from afar. "I'd also like one for my girl, too, if that's possible." She requested. Adrianne nodded and smiled, opening the door to the shop for the two.

"My husband's out hunting, so I'll attend to you today. What kind of weapons are you looking for?" "A dagger for the girl, please. Preferably dwarven or glass." Adrianne ducked behind her counter, pulling a glass dagger up, gently setting it on the counter. "You fancy this type, Sarila?" "Well, as long as Lyvette is okay with it." Sarila turned to Lyvette, who perked up at the mention of her name. "Ah, I see. Have to consult the higher authorities." Adrianne chuckled, looking over at Lyvette. Lyvette stood on her toes and looked up at the dagger. She let out a gasp of awe as she beheld its marvelous craftsmanship. "Wow! It's beautiful!" She squealed. "And powerful, too." Sarila added, turning to Adrianne. "How much?" "165 Septims, please." Sarila nodded and handed Adrianne a heavy purse of coins.

Sarila tucked Lyvette's new glass dagger in her other sheath for her. Lyvette eyed the beautiful glass dagger that now made its home in her sheath, grinning from ear to ear. Sarila turned back to Adrianne. "And what kind of weapon would you like? Sword? Mace?" She asked. "I…honestly, I don't have a clue. I've always been good with daggers, but could I see one of your finest swords, please?"

Adrianne retreated to the back room of the store and returned a moment later with a large elven sword, setting it on the counter. "Why don't you try and lift it?" She suggested. Sarila stepped up to the counter and grasped the sword by its hilt with both hands. She struggled, straining to pick it up, but had eventually lifted it off the counter. "It's mighty heavy, but with some training, I could probably lift it. I'll buy it, but could I also get another ebony dagger, please?"

Sarila and Lyvette left Warmaiden's with new weapons and a new sense of security. Adrianne had given Sarila a sheath for her back, and she had tucked the elven sword into it. The two girls rushed over to the meadery, and in about fifteen minutes, they had arrived.

Sarila noticed the meadery was slowly changing. For one thing, she noted, there were no more dead skeevers lying about, and for that, she was thankful. She shuddered to think of the adventure she and Ysgrig had in the depths of the meadery.

Mallus Maccius had been setting some fresh bottles of Black-Briar mead on the counter when he saw Sarila and Lyvette come in. "Well, well! Look who's here!" He greeted. "Good morning, Mallus. I'm here for some…'business dealings'." She informed him, rooting through her satchel of stolen goods. "Ah, yes, yes. Let's see what you've got." He rubbed his hands together, watching Sarila fish through her satchel.

Sarila had sold every bauble, trinket, and oddity her sticky fingers had swiped over the past two weeks. She was glad to be rid of the stuff; it was risky to carry so many stolen goods with so many guards, and it had been weighing her down. She certainly didn't mind the fair amount of gold she had raked in, either.

"Say, Mallus? You, perchance, got any sweetrolls for my girl, Lyvette?" Sarila asked, adjusting the sheath strap for her elven sword. "Well, I'm sure I've got one somewhere. Hold on, it's probably…ah! Found it!" He pulled a sweetroll from the small sack hidden away in the counter's middle shelf. "On the house. You know, for a fellow comrade." Mallus winked, handing Sarila the sweetroll. Sarila smiled, giving the sweetroll to Lyvette, who took it excitedly. "Oh! Apologies, but the sweetroll might be a bit cold. I made it last night." Mallus apologized. "That's okay! I don't mind." Lyvette replied through a mouthful of sweetroll.

"Anything else I can get you?" "No thank you, Mallus. You've been quite a help." Sarila smiled. "And I see the new Black-Briar Meadery of Whiterun is coming along quite well. How's Sabjorn's sentence treating him?" She asked with an evil grin. Mallus chuckled. "The old miser's had it coming for quite awhile, let me tell you. Bastard didn't pay worth a damn, that's for sure." He replied. "Though, in all honesty, I do sometimes feel the slightest bit of guilting pinching the depths of my heart. Sabjorn _was_ innocent, after all, and I suppose he didn't really deserve what happened to him." Mallus frowned. Sarila was surprised at his sudden change of heart. "Really?" She asked.

Mallus grinned a moment later. "No, I'm only fooling. That s'wit can go to the depths of Oblivion for all I care." He laughed, Sarila joining him. "Well, aren't you just a ray of sunshine?" She chuckled. "Well, I try." Mallus grinned.

Lyvette had finished her sweetroll a moment later, and the two bid Mallus farewell as they set out towards Whiterun to meet up with Marcurio.

Though, as soon as the two had made it halfway to the city, Sarila heard three pairs of footsteps.

Along with those footsteps, voices of Altmer rang out through the otherwise silent atmosphere.

 _Oh, dear._


	69. No Gest For The Weary

"You there! Come closer. The authority of the Aldmeri Dominion commands you."

 _Oh, no, no, no, no…the amulet of Talos!_

Sarila inhaled deeply yet quietly, reaching up to tuck the amulet into the back of her dress. She slowly turned around with Lyvette. "We are looking for several people, each one of them is a criminal who must be brought to Alinor and persecuted. If you lie to us, we will know, so don't even think about it, _human._ " The leader, a tall Altmer man, ordered. Sarila felt her forehead begin to sweat, though Lyvette was confused. "Who are the bad people?" She asked, looking up at Sarila.

The leader gave a few chuckles, and looked down at Lyvette with a malicious smile. "Well, I am glad you asked, child. We're on the hunt for a sarcastic, sword-bearing woman named Delphine," He looked up at Sarila, who shrugged. "And a crazy, old, dragon-obsessed fellow named Esbern," He once again looked up at Sarila. "Afraid I don't know who either of those people are." She answered honestly. The man nodded, and parted his lips again to speak. "And a sneaky, murderous, Talos-worshipping woman named Ytri."

Sarila felt her blood run cold, and her heart practically stopped. Lyvette stood silently, looking at the clouds to remain calm. She knew Sarila knew Ytri.

Sarila, however, was having trouble staying calm, and the Thalmor noticed.

"What's this? Perhaps you have some…information for us?" He asked, reaching for his blade. "N-n-no, no sir! I…I d-don't know anyone named Y-Ytri!" She blurted, her palms growing sweaty. She reached back to wipe away the sweat that was trickling down her neck.

In doing so, Ytri's amulet of Talos slipped out from behind her dress.

The leader of the Aldmeri group immediately noticed the amulet of Talos, along with the clear inscription of Ytri's name. He gritted his teeth and pulled his blade from the sheath. "HEATHEN!" He yelled, prompting the other two Aldmeri agents to unsheathe their swords. Sarila gasped, holding Lyvette close to her. Lyvette's breathing grew heavy, and she wrapped her arms around Sarila's legs.

The Altmer man grabbed Lyvette, eliciting a shrill shriek from the frightened girl. He put the blade of his sword to her neck.

"NO! You let her go!" Sarila commanded, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "No! You foolish, foolish humans have lied to us. You have violated the White-Gold Concordat by wearing that accursed amulet of Talos, and even worse, you have lied to us about your own identity, you Talos-worshipping BITCH! I'll cut you both down! Mer are supreme!" He tightened his grip on Lyvette, holding his sword even harder against her neck. "Say goodbye to your little girl, Ytri!"

"What in Oblivion is she doing?!" One of the Thalmor agents exclaimed.

Before anyone even knew what had happened, Sarila had lunged for the leader of the agents. She had unsheathed her daggers and raised them, giving a fierce battle cry that rang out for miles as she plunged her daggers into both of the Altmer's eyes. The man went limp and collapsed, and Lyvette ran from the agents, who were now attacking Sarila.

The thin female Altmer raised her blade, preparing to bring it down upon Sarila's neck. Sarila kicked her foot out from under her, stomping on her chest. The short male Altmer snuck up behind Sarila and made a clean thrust directly aiming for her heart, though Sarila turned around and grabbed the fellow's wrist. She dug her nails into his wrist, the elf crying out as he tried to pry her off him. Sarila bit into his free arm, ripping some of the skin out, all the while crushing the woman beneath her with strong stomps on her chest. She never released the man's arm, chunks of his flesh flying from his wound.

She kicked him in the groin, and he immediately collapsed. She got off the female Altmer and stomped his head in, fragments of his shattered skull and brains flying everywhere in an explosion of blood. The Altmer woman was stunned, but managed to stand up. She readied her sword and prepared to make a clean stab through Sarila's stomach, though Sarila, still seething with rage, knew what to expect.

In a shower of crimson blood, the Altmer collapsed, her head rolling away from her body.

Sarila's breathing eased up a bit and the adrenaline that was coursing through her veins stopped. The world and all of time slowed, eventually coming to a complete stop as Sarila realized what she had just done.

She had killed not one, not two, but _three_ people in under a minute.

Lyvette, who was unbelievably appalled by what she had just witnessed, was even more horrified when she watched Sarila collapse. She rushed over to her adoptive mother, turning her over, face up. She frantically called her name as she pressed on her chest several times. She put her ear to Sarila's chest, hearing the beating of her heart.

Sarila was alive.

Sarila was alive, but Lyvette didn't know what to do. "Are you hurt? No, are you okay? Sarila, please answer me!" Lyvette cried, tears streaming down her face. She wailed in terror, fleeing the scene of the gruesome battle.


	70. A New Mission

"Sarila, please get up."

Sarila's violet eyes opened at the sound of her mother's voice, feeling her soft fingers stroking her scarred cheek. She appeared to be back in the sanctuary she had met her parents, Ytri, and Terdel in her dreams. She looked down at her apparel, noting the short, white lace dress she wore.

"Mother, I…I've been bad. I've killed three people today." She hung her head in shame. Sarila's mother shook her head, giving a small smile. "Your father and I are very proud of you, Sarila. You've just conquered your biggest fear, and you saved your little girl while you did it." Her father suddenly appeared next to her mother, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"But…murder is wrong." Sarila weakly stated, looking into her mother's eyes. The two of them nodded. "Yes, murder _is_ wrong." Sarila's mother replied, looking towards her husband. "But that wasn't murder, Sarila. Those elven bastards threatened your lives. If anything, you were innocent." Her father chimed in.

"Innocent? I just straight-up killed three people!" Sarila cried, her eyes wild with fear. "Listen, Sarilly. The point is you did the right thing. If you had a choice, would you rather have them kill you and Lyvette, or kill them instead?" Sarila pondered her mother's question. "I…I suppose I would choose the latter." She murmured, looking back into her mother's eyes. Sarila's father helped Sarila to her feet, pulling her and her mother in for a warm embrace. He leaned in towards Sarila's ear. "Now, I want to tell you something. Those Aldmeri bastards are trying to control how we live. We can't let them do this to us. They want to make themselves supreme over humans and eventually end our existence entirely. Whatever you do, don't give up. Don't give in. Never let the elves control you." He whispered into her ear.

"But how can I make a difference?" She asked. "Join the Stormcloaks, Sarila. Finish what I started. Tell your brother what I said. Tell him to tell his son, tell his son's son, and eventually, we'll drive out the elves and restore Skyrim to her former glory. That's a promise." He smiled, giving Sarila a light squeeze on the arm as the trio broke their hug.

"It's time for you to go back, Sarila. You can't stay here with us much longer." Her mother told her, looking up at the multi-colored sky as a roar ripped through the air. "Why? Why not?" Sarila asked, confusion and bewilderment upon her face. "It's not safe for the living to tread here for too long, Sarila. You must go." "But—" "Go! Sarila, you need to go, NOW!" Her father commanded as another ear-splitting roar shot through the sky. Sarila nodded, not understanding her parents' reasoning, but she inhaled deeply, hoping to awaken.

The last thing she saw before she awoke was her parents fleeing, and large, black wings gliding through the skies.

"Sarila! Oh, Gods! Is she alright?!" Marcurio asked Lyvette as they ran over to her still body. She gave a groan and sat up, putting her hand to her head. She retracted her hand when she realized it was coated in the blood of the elves. "Oh, Sarila…" Marcurio murmured, helping Sarila to her feet. "Gods above, I'm so sorry…" He mumbled, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. "It's not your fault, it's not your fault…" She repeated, pulling Marcurio in for a hug. She peered over Marcurio's shoulder at Lyvette. "Oh, Lyvette! Come here, sweetie!" She called, and in a split second, the three of them were locked together in a tight hug.

Sarila wanted to carry out her father's task. The Stormcloaks were viewed by some as barbarians, but Sarila knew they only wanted to protect their idols. After Emperor Titus Mede II signed the White-Gold Concordat, banning the worship of Talos in the empire, many of the Nords were outraged; their idol, the very man who influenced their lifestyles, had been slandered. Sarila's mother, father, Ytri, and Terdel, were some of the people heavily affected.

Though, Sarila grimly thought, none of them were alive anymore.

She wanted to make sure her loved ones didn't die for nothing, and join the Stormcloaks, though she knew she wasn't nearly strong enough. The berserk rampage she had just gone on to kill the Thalmor agents who threatened her and Lyvette was just a case of intense adrenaline.

 _Where could I possibly receive training now?_

The trio walked together in a somber silence, not bothering to get rid of the battered, bloodied bodies of the Aldmeri agents.


	71. Promises Made And Promises Kept

**A/N: WOWZA! I've posted NINE chapters this week, and it's only Wednesday! Someone call 911, because I'm on FIRE! *clears throat* Ahem, well, I suppose it's time for the story, isn't it? As always, reviews are appreciated so let me know how I'm doing, much love and appreciation, STORY TIME!**

"You want to join the Stormcloak rebellion? You're sure?" Ysgrig asked his sister, pure seriousness evident in his voice. Sarila nodded, and Ysgrig exhaled, running a hand through his auburn hair. "Alright, alright…but where are you going to get training? I mean, not to offend you in any way, sis, but you've never even killed." Sarila looked down, her shoulders drooping a bit.

"Ohhhhhh, Sarila. Don't you dare tell me that look of guilt on your face means what I think it means." Ysgrig bit his lip, observing his sister's facial expressions. "How many people was it?" "Three. Thalmor agents." "Did they attack you?" "Their leader grabbed Lyvette, stuck a sword to her neck, and was about to have us both killed. He mistook me for Ytri since I was wearing her amulet of Talos." Ysgrig sighed, rubbing his temples. "Well, I can see why dad joined the rebellion. Truth be told, I was thinking of joining up myself."

"Ysgrig, you cannot be serious!"

"Chalvia!" Ysgrig turned around, surprised. "Are you actually planning on joining the rebellion?! You'll get killed out there! Do you have any idea how many rebels die each day at the hand of the Imperials and the elves?" Chalvia crossed her arms, waiting for an answer. "When we first met, I told you I wanted to be a soldier when I grew up. Now, that time is here, and I want to help finish the war my dad entered but didn't leave alive." Chalvia sighed, looking over at Sarila. "Are you condoning this?" She asked. Sarila looked down at her feet. "I was actually planning to join the rebellion as well." She sheepishly answered.

"Listen, Ysgrig. I'm alright with this as long as you promise me two things." She walked over to Ysgrig, taking his hands in hers. "Anything, Chalvia. Anything." He looked into her eyes with sincerity. "Don't join until after our baby is born, and when you do…please stay out of harm's way." She looked up at him with pleading eyes. "I promise, Chalvia. I'll wait." He promised, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Thank you so much, Ysgrig. I just…I need you here with me when the child is born."

Chalvia turned to Sarila. "Sarila, with all due respect, you have a little girl to watch out for. Her parents are gone, and she's now in your care. Think, what if something, Gods forbid, happens to you?" She asked. "It won't." Sarila firmly replied. "Well, what if, by some odd chance, it _does?_ " "Then I want you two to have her. She's extremely fond of Ysgrig, and when the baby is born, she'll love the company of a little brother or sister." Sarila explained, setting her backpack on the ground.

The trio stood in silence for a few moments until Chalvia cleared her throat. "Well…I should get started on tonight's dinner. We're having cooked beef and broiled rabbit tonight." She gave a small smile as she shuffled into the kitchen. Ysgrig turned back to face Sarila. "As I was saying previously, where are you going to get training?" He asked. "Well…that's what I was hoping to talk to you about." She moved closer to Ysgrig, pulling the sword from the sheath on her back. She struggled to hold the sword upright, but when she did, she felt more at ease.

Ysgrig, however, was not so pleased.

"You got a sword? Gods above, Sarila, you can barely lift that thing." "I know! That's why I want you to train me in combat, maybe I'll get stronger."

Ysgrig stepped back and took a moment to take in the image of his sister's physique. She was skinnier than she had been a month ago, but she did appear to have the slightest bit of muscle mass, though it was nearly unnoticeable. She'd grown about an inch since the time they had reunited, and she appeared to be relatively healthy.

"Well…all right, but we're not going to start training right away, and we can't train every day; your muscles will become fatigued." Ysgrig explained, and Sarila nodded eagerly. "Thank you so much, Ysgrig! I won't let you down!" Ysgrig chuckled. "Talk is cheap, Sarila, but I've got a good feeling about this." He grinned, ruffling his sister's golden hair.

When the residents of the Home sat down for dinner, everyone was talking. More specifically, everyone was talking to Lyvette. Mattha, Qattindra, Chalvia, and Sa'etha thought she was the cutest thing to grace the halls of the Home. Caehir and Reea'th smiled and told jokes to make the sweet little girl laugh. Omir said nothing, but smiled as he watched the child bring joy into everyone's hearts.

Omir suddenly couldn't wait for Chalvia's baby to arrive. If Lyvette brought this much happiness to the Home, he could barely imagine how thrilling it would be with a baby around. He knew that everyone would be perfectly capable of helping out with the child, but he had hoped that Sa'etha had been taught how to deliver babies when she studied under Metian Septianos.

Sarila devoured her cooked beef, and the broiled carrots met the same fate soon after. Sarila was amazed at how incredible Chalvia was at cooking. Surely not even the gourmet could prepare meals that lingered her taste buds and made them dance in harmony. She caught Marcurio glancing at her from time to time, though he didn't relent, and instead gave her a seductive smile. She returned his smile, and he gave her a wink. Omir cleared his throat next to her and knowingly looked her in the eyes.

 _Damn! I keep forgetting that cats can smell lust._

After dinner, Sarila went back to the guest room to drop her backpack off, but stopped halfway there. "Oh, dear." She mumbled, realizing there was a problem with living arrangements. "Ysgrig, where are you?" She called out. She heard Ysgrig answer from his office. She made her way into his office and closed the door behind her. "It appears there's not enough room for Lyvette, Marcurio, and I to sleep in the guest room; there are only two beds." She explained.

Ysgrig shrugged. "Not a problem, really. We have another guest room at the end of the hall, and if memory serves, it should have a double bed. It should be big enough for you and Lyvette." Sarila nodded. "Thank you, Ysgrig." She thanked, walking out of the office.

As soon as the door was closed, Ysgrig chuckled silently to himself. "Big enough for you and Lyvette…and big enough for you and Marcurio." He mischievously snickered, putting his hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. "Ysgrig? Who are you talking to?" Chalvia called from outside, startling Ysgrig. He knocked a book off his desk and bent over to pick it up. "Uh, myself!" "Do we need to get Sa'etha to fix your broken head?" Chalvia joked. "Err, no! No, thank you. I think I'm mostly sane." He laughed.

Sarila quietly chuckled to herself. _Boy, I sure had Ysgrig fooled. Lyvette can sleep by herself, she's told me so many times._

She knocked on the door to the guest room Lyvette was staying in. "Come in!" Marcurio called from behind the door. "Is Lyvette there?" Sarila asked. "No, she went off with Mattha." Sarila opened the door, closing it behind her. "Ysgrig says there's another guest room available for us." She told him. Marcurio raised an eyebrow, a smug grin appearing on his face. "Is that so?" "Indeed."


	72. Sweet Salacity

**A/N: Okeydokey guys, here it is! The lemon I promised. If you don't like graphic lemon scenes, you miiiight wanna skip over this chapter. Just a suggestion.  
Well, you know the drill by now; reviews and feedback are always appreciated, much love and appreciation, here we go!**

The two had played with Lyvette for awhile until it was 11, and she was promptly ushered away to bed. After Lyvette was sound asleep, the couple retreated to their room, immediately collapsing on the bed from exhaustion.

Sarila cast a quick glance at Marcurio, who seemed to be gazing lovingly at her. He smiled warmly, which reflected on Sarila's face. Marcurio sat up and pulled Sarila onto his lap, pressing his lips to hers. Sarila sighed into his mouth and closed her violet eyes, loosely wrapping her arms around his neck. She particularly enjoyed Marcurio's manly scents of pine, grass, and leather. Marcurio gently pushed his tongue into Sarila's mouth, drawing a soft but audible moan from the Nord's throat. Marcurio, encouraged by her reaction, smiled into the kiss and began to undo the front lacing on Sarila's pale blue dress.

Sarila didn't protest, and broke the kiss to help him undo her laces. She shimmied out of her sleeves and let the garment fall onto the ground. Sarila got off the edge of the bed and instead sat in the center. She looked at Marcurio, love in her eyes. "Won't the others hear us?" She shyly asked, her silky voice no louder than a whisper. Marcurio shook his head and licked his lips before parting them to speak. "No. They're much too tired. They're bound to be fast asleep by now." The Imperial mage reassured.

Sarila nodded and shyly reached for Marcurio's robes, a coy smile tugging at the corners of her plump, pink lips. She undid the strings on the front of his robe and pulled the cloak over his head. Sarila observed his chiseled body and hardened chest, his pectoral muscles glowing with youth and vigor. Marcurio smiled warmly at his beloved Sarila as her gorgeous violet eyes curiously swept over his body.

Marcurio took a moment to take in the sight of her half-nude form as well. She had two perfectly round, creamy breasts which strained against her lavender breast band. The breast band itself was slightly worn, though it did well to make Sarila's breasts look perky. "You're beautiful, Sarila. Better than any goddess known to man." Sarila met Marcurio's chocolate brown eyes and noticed him looking closely at her chest. She pulled her breast band over her head and let her breasts spring free.

Marcurio swallowed, an intense burning becoming evident in his loins as Sarila exposed her stunningly perfect bosoms to the world. He slowly reached out and looked Sarila in the eye, silently asking for her permission to be touched. The loving smile she gave him was the only answer he needed. He firmly grasped the deliciously round flesh of her breasts in his hands. His breath hitched in his throat as he gently stroked Sarila's perky nipples, drawing several gasps of approval from the Nord woman. "M-M-Marcurio, mmmm..." He leaned closer and took her pert nipple in his mouth, gliding his tongue over every bit of it as Sarila squirmed with pleasure in his grasp. He released her and allowed her to catch her breath. He reveled in her short gasps and shudders as her breathing returned to normal.

When Sarila had recomposed herself, she focused on Marcurio's trousers and undid them, sliding them down his legs. His member began to slowly erect at her gentlest touch. "You're sure you want to do this, love?" Marcurio asked, his cheeks flushed. Sarila nodded, gazing into his eyes, clouded with lust. "Surer than I've ever been for anything in my life." She answered, and she grasped him in her hand and began to knead and lightly pull on his manhood, Marcurio groaning appreciatively in response. She took him in her mouth and Marcurio gasped, grasping her head full of golden locks.

Sarila's tongue glided everywhere on the tip of him and she began to suck, her hums of satisfaction sending thrilling buzzes through Marcurio's body. She began to bob her head up and down, taking his entire length into her mouth. She slowed down, not wanting him to release yet, and Marcurio released his vice on her head. Sarila was quite surprised; she was more skilled than she thought she would be for her first time. His face glistened with sweat, and his cheeks were flushed. He caught his breath and gently pushed Sarila onto her back. Her head sank into the soft velvet of the pillow, and she giggled as Marcurio pulled her underclothes down her long, smooth legs with his teeth.

Marcurio took a moment to hover over her and bask in her majestic nudity, gently running his hands over every inch of her stunning body. Marcurio's member fully erected, slapping against his stomach as it rose upward, throbbing with need to sheath itself deep within Sarila's core. He let out an audible sigh. Sarila, he thought, looked more beautiful in this moment than a goddess. Kyne nor Mara nor Dibella herself could compare to the gorgeous, sultry yet innocent vixen lying nude before him on the bed. He gazed at her womanhood and slowly, cautiously slipped a finger into her hot snatch. The soft moan of approval urged him to continue his ministrations on her. He began to pump his finger in and out of her in tantalizingly slow movements, drawing more moans from deep within her when he slid another finger into her. He curled his fingers up and smiled wickedly when he realized, from her growing moans, he'd found her sweet spot.

He continued his motions inside her and reveled in her affectionate moans. He slowly pulled his fingers out of her, not wanting her to come yet. He seductively grinned and licked her burning juices from his fingers, Sarila growing hotter from the sight. Marcurio gently kissed her on the lips, slowly trailing his kisses down to her neck. His teeth grazed her neck as he hit sweet spots Sarila had never known she'd had.

Slowly, Marcurio climbed atop her. Sarila spread her legs, lifting them in the air. Marcurio took it as a signal that she was ready, and Gods, she was. She was dripping with need for him, and his masterful fingers were simply to whet her insatiable appetite. Marcurio placed his hands on either side of her and the two locked eye contact, whispering undying affections for each other. "Please, Marcurio." She quietly breathed, pure lust lacing her voice. Slowly, Marcurio slid himself into her. Sarila lightly closed her eyes, ignoring the stinging pain that shot up through her most intimate of places as the last of her innocence was taken, and the two sighed at the pleasing feeling of each other. Nothing else on Nirn mattered except the two of them held close in each other's arms as they made sweet, passionate love.

Marcurio continued to push inside her until he was buried to the hilt. The two shared a passionate kiss, and Marcurio began to slowly thrust in and out of her, making sure to hit her in all the right places. Sarila's lips quivered uncontrollably as she moaned, and she locked her legs around his waist and dug her nails into his back to work his member deeper into her. Marcurio felt as if he were in heaven. Here was the woman of his dreams, writhing under him and crying out between breathless moans for more of him. It was he who was making her cry his name. It was he who drew pleasured gasps from deep within the beautiful woman's throat. And Gods above, did he love the feeling.

Her warmth tightened around his girth, its slick, velvety feeling drawing several languid groans from deep within Marcurio. He pumped into her faster, whispering multitudes of "I love you's" and compliments as he peppered her pretty face with dozens of loving kisses. He paid the most attention to the scar on her cheek, trailing his tongue gently across it as he attacked it with kisses. "I love this part of you, Sarila. I love every part of you. You are my one and only love." He whispered, bringing a hand up to delicately stroke her cheek.

Sarila felt salty tears threaten to spill from her eyes. This wonderful, handsome, kindhearted man was taking his time to please her. He wanted to make her feel loved. And Gods, did she love it. Sarila felt herself tighten and tighten to the point where she thought she was going to explode. The coiling sensation inside her stomach only made her moan louder. Tiny globules of sweat beaded on Marcurio's forehead. He could tell he was close, but he needed to hold on. He wanted-no, _needed_ -Sarila to reach her high point when he did. She had to be up there with him.

Sarila began to rock her hips with his, their bodies moving in sync and their hearts beating out of their chests. Sarila's moans and cries grew louder and more languid as Marcurio's thrusts grew faster and harder. The two whispered countless words of affection to each other, their lovemaking coming close to its effervescing conclusion. Finally, Sarila tightened and spasmed wildly around Marcurio's exorbitant member and she gave a sharp cry as she reached her climax. Waves of immense pleasure ran through her veins, and she shook with an intense vibration throughout her body, involuntarily curling her toes and clawing at Marcurio's back.

Her peak had driven Marcurio over the edge, and in a split second, he gave a guttural growl and shot his hot, sticky seed deep inside her. He rode her until his seed was fully spent, before pulling out and rolling off his lover, panting as his heartbeat returned to normal. Sarila was still coming down from heaven, and she sleepily grasped Marcurio's hand as he wiped his forehead with his other one. "I love you, Marcurio." She breathed, her voice no louder than a whisper. Marcurio smiled and brushed a tuft of golden hair from her face. "I love you, too, my gorgeous Sarila." He sweetly whispered against her hair. Sarila fell into his open embrace and the two slowly drifted off to sleep in each other's arms, the sound of the beating of their lovestruck hearts filling the otherwise silent room.


	73. Starting With The Basics

**A/N: NOOOOOOO WAY! I just realized…this story's got over 100k words! WOOOO! IT'S A HUNDRED THOUSAND! THAT'S A TENTH OF A MILLION! *does backflip and lands on wobbly chair* ACK I'M GONNA DIE. Well, anyway, I suppose it's story time, isn't it? Commence! WOOOOOOO! *throws streamers***

Sarila's eyes slowly opened as she awoke. She yawned, rubbing the mists of a peaceful slumber from her eyes. She took a glance over at Marcurio, the light green blanket covering the lower half of his body as he slept. She sighed as she observed his facial features. The Gods had truly gifted this man with a face of beauty.

 _Yes…I'm in love._

Her heart fluttered as she thought the words over and over again in her head, rolling on her back, brushing away the wild locks of golden hair that crept onto her face as she moved. She looked back over at Marcurio when he began to stir, yawning as he slowly awoke. "Good morning, love." She whispered, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead.

"Good morning, sweet Sarila." He mumbled sleepily, stroking her hair. "I have training with Ysgrig today." She told him. Marcurio nodded and got up, Sarila sneakily glancing at his nude form as he reached down to pick up his clothes. "You'd better get dressed, but personally, I think you look better without your clothes." Marcurio teased, tossing Sarila her dress, breastband, and panties.

The two got dressed, and Sarila headed over to Lyvette's room to wake her up. Lyvette was already awake, sleepily talking to her doll as she brushed its hair. She perked up when Sarila entered the room. "Good morning!" She chirped, hopping off the bed to hug Sarila. Sarila lifted Lyvette into her arms, smiling. "Good morning, little one. Ready to go get some breakfast?" She asked. Lyvette nodded excitedly and squirmed out of Sarila's arms.

Marcurio was already at the breakfast table eating some boiled creme treats. Chalvia was nearby polishing off her plate, Mattha sat at the end of the table flipping through a book per usual, Caehir whittled a wooden horse from a chunk of wood from a tree, and Qattindra was chugging down some ale.

Chalvia handed Sarila a plate with boiled creme treats, and another one for Lyvette. Lyvette gleefully forked the scrumptious, sugary meal into her mouth. She pretended to feed her doll, giggling when she got some of the glazed sauce on her doll's face. Sarila smiled and handed Lyvette a napkin to wipe her doll's face off.

"Qattindra, are you feeling up for a bit of hunting later?" Caehir suddenly asked. Qattindra grinned and nodded. "I certainly am! What should we kill? A sabrecat? A bear?" She asked eagerly. "How about a mammoth?" "Now you're talking." She grinned, hopping up from the table to fetch her sword. "Qattindra, you forgot your—oh, never mind." Sarila chuckled, remembering what Chalvia had told her about Qattindra forgetting her meals. Caehir quickly devoured the rest of her boiled creme treats and hopped up to grab his weapon as well.

Qattindra and Caehir returned a moment later, preparing to leave the Home to go hunt. Sarila turned her head to face them. "Qattindra, Caehir, how on earth do you gather the willpower to hunt such beasts?" She asked. Qattindra chuckled heartily. "Well, it's like I always say; butcher, or _be_ butchered." She laughed, heading out with Caehir.

"Sarila, are you ready for today's training?" Ysgrig called, walking into the dining hall. "Oh, yes! I'll meet you outside as soon as I'm done with breakfast." She promised, and Ysgrig nodded, walking outside.

Sarila had quickly finished her breakfast, carrying her daggers with her as she went to see Ysgrig for her first training session. She was excited; she'd finally be able to become stronger and fulfill her promise to her father.

Every time she thought of her family and Ytri, she couldn't help but feel like there was some piece of the puzzle that was missing from its proper place. She didn't have a clue why Ytri and Terdel had risked their lives to save the twins from the attack on their family farm, and for the most part, she had assumed it had something to do with their love of Talos.

The Thalmor who had attacked Sarila and Lyvette the previous day had described her as "a sneaky, murderous, Talos-worshipping woman". Sarila had known that, whenever they had to leave a city, Ytri would rush them out, telling her it was like a trip, only permanent. She could also faintly recall hearing sounds of struggle and bloodshed in the background when Ytri told her to wait by the front gate.

Ytri would sometimes come back to her with blood covering her blade and dress, and Sarila couldn't tell if it was Ytri's blood or not. All she knew was that someone was hurt, and they had to leave because of it.

"Sarila, are you even listening to me?" Ysgrig suddenly interrupted her train of thought, startling the woman.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't realize, I—well, I suppose I was in deep thought." Ysgrig nodded. "That's okay, you are forgiven. For now, let's start with the basics. You should do some push-ups. It will help your arm muscles get stronger. You might struggle at first, but things will gradually become easier.

Ysgrig hadn't been lying about the struggles, Sarila thought. Her arms wiggled and wobbled like jelly on a dancer's head. After her thirtieth push-up, she felt like she was going to give out, but something awoke deep inside her. She felt a rush of adrenaline shoot through her body, and she refused to give in to the cruelty of the grueling training.

Ysgrig grinned from ear to ear when his sister started perfecting her form, making quick drops to the ground, only to quickly rise back up. She kept her back straight as she rose and fell, and after her fiftieth push-up, Ysgrig stopped her. "You did pretty good, sis. You're going to have to do fifty more tomorrow if you want to improve your arm strength. We'll also try to attacks on the training dummy I got, and you'll be fit as a fiddle in no time." He grinned, patting Sarila on the back.

Sarila grinned back, because she knew she had done well that day.

And done well, she had indeed.


	74. Eight Brutal Months

Sarila had returned to Riften alongside Marcurio and Lyvette and notified Delvin of her success in Whiterun. She was promptly rewarded, and she hurried back to the Home to get some more training done.

Ysgrig kept to his word and trained her rigorously, though he never pushed her too far. He noticed small improvements in Sarila every day, noting her more muscular arms and calves. He was truly proud of his sister for her dedication to training, though when he looked at her long, golden locks, he deemed them hazardous, as an enemy soldier could grab her by the hair. She would, of course, be wearing a helmet that would most likely cover her hair, but he didn't want to take any chances.

Sarila, however, had noticed her hair's liability, and had taken her ebony dagger out of its sheath, cutting her hair bit by bit. Her hair was above shoulder length, and swept perfectly behind her ears. Ultimately, the end result was shorter hair and a safer Sarila.

Sometimes Sarila would go to Whiterun, taking Lyvette and Marcurio with her. She'd let Lyvette play with Dagny at Dragonsreach, and would sometimes head up to Jorrvaskr, mead hall of the Companions, to request training with them. After training, she would head down to the market to browse the wares at the stalls. At the end of the day, she would return to the Bannered Mare, have a meal and a few drinks with Marcurio, and wait for Lyvette to come back.

Ysgrig trained Sarila for weeks. Her muscles were no longer fatigued after training after the third week, and she was able to perform to the best of her ability. Occasionally, Caehir or Qattindra would help train Sarila with push-ups, hunting practice, and occasionally archery.

The weeks turned into months. Sarila could lift her sword with ease, and could even brandish a heavier weapon that required two hands. She was learning how to handle greatswords, battleaxes, and warhammers. Ysgrig had to get new training dummies on the occasion, as Sarila would sometimes destroy them in training. He didn't mind, though; his student was doing quite well, and they would be able to join the Stormcloaks in no time.

Sarila had finished her breakfast one day and ran to see Ysgrig immediately after. "What's today's training?" She eagerly asked, whipping out her ebony daggers. Ysgrig chuckled. "Already excited for today's assignment?" Sarila nodded. "Today, we're going to attack an Imperial camp.

Sarila was mildly taken aback, but otherwise stood her ground. "Really? An Imperial camp?" She asked, tucking her daggers back in their sheathes. "Right. I'd advise you take your dwarven warhammer with you, too. We might need some heavy artillery." Ysgrig suggested, gesturing to the greatsword tucked in the sheath across his back.

Sarila nodded and darted back into the Home, stopping when she almost bumped into Chalvia. The Redguard woman smiled warmly at Sarila. "Good morning, Sarila! How's the training treating you?" She asked, arching her back slightly. "Ysgrig has trained me quite well. I'm certainly not the milk-drinker I was eight months ago." She paused, watching as Chalvia put a hand on her back with a scowl of pain on her face.

"How's your back?" Sarila asked. Chalvia grimaced. "Painful." She replied. Chalvia was heavily pregnant. Sa'etha seemed to think that the baby would arrive quite soon, and the residents of the Home wasted no time to help with preparations for their new arrival. "I can't imagine how hard it is to carry an extra person for so long. I'm sure you can't wait for the baby to be born, though." Sarila grinned, looking at Chalvia's baby bump.

Chalvia laughed heartily. "Oh, you could bet on that! This baby's going to be a big one, that's for sure." She replied, placing her hands on her stomach. "Do you think it'll be twins?" Sarila asked. Chalvia shrugged. "I don't know, but that would be wonderful. Two babies means twice the memories." She smiled. "Well, you shouldn't keep Ysgrig waiting. Good luck in your training, Sarila!" She waved as Sarila ran to her room to fetch her warhammer.

Ysgrig waited for Sarila patiently, and when she returned, he immediately started walking. "Where are we headed?" She asked, trekking alongside him. "There should be an Imperial camp somewhere within the borders of The Rift. Reea'th was out hunting for wild rabbits the other day when some of the soldiers came and started taking potshots at him with their bows. We're going to teach them the error of their ways, and of course, it can't hurt to get rid of some of the Imperials before we join the Stormcloak rebellion." He beamed, looking around at the surroundings.

The twins were quite eager to prepare for the war, and though Sarila's blood had once gone cold at the thought of killing another human, she wanted to make the Imperials and the Aldmeri dominion pay for everything they had done and all the trouble they had stirred up within their frosty yet likable homeland, Skyrim.

Now, she thought, she could wage war and make her family proud alongside her brother. Her parents, Ytri, Terdel, and all the other fallen Stormcloaks wouldn't have to have died for nothing.

 _That's a promise._


	75. Emergency Trip

Sarila and Ysgrig ducked behind a bush, carefully watching the Imperial camp ahead of them. A quartermaster was seen tempering a steel blade, and several Imperial soldiers were huddled around the fire. Ysgrig scoffed at the sight. "Damn Imperials. They can't seem to stand the cold like the Nords." Sarila nodded. Ysgrig turned to her. "Now, we can either sneak up and take them out one by one, or charge in and slaughter them all at once. It's your choice, sis."

Sarila pulled her daggers from their sheathes. "It's wiser to do it the sneaky way than to do it the cheeky way." She grinned evilly, glancing at three Imperial soldiers off in the distance. "And I know exactly how we can do it."

She snuck over to the three Imperials, who seemed to be chatting with each other as they guarded the perimeter, Ysgrig following closely behind. She arose from her sneaking position and approached the Imperial soldiers casually, Ysgrig mirroring her movements. One soldier turned to the twins curiously, the others soon noticing. "Staying out of trouble, citizens?" One asked kindly. Sarila gave a sweet smile. "Hello." She began. The soldiers gave her a curt nod, resuming to their chatter.

"And goodbye." She added a moment later, running towards the closest soldier. After she had pierced his heart with her dagger, she used her other dagger to slit another's neck. Ysgrig took the third soldier down in a shower of blood with his greatsword.

The two had stripped two of the corpses of their clothes, wiping off what they could of the bloodstains. They strode into the camp. Sarila winked at Ysgrig and approached the quartermaster. The fellow looked up, beaming. "Afternoon, miss. Care for a shiny new blade to bloody your foes with?" He smiled, offering her the sword he'd finished tempering. Sarila nodded, and once the blade was in her hands, she turned back to face him. "Thank you kindly, sir."

She lopped the man's head off a split second later with his own sword.

The twins then branched out, stabbing and slicing every Imperial soldier they could find. Blood, limbs, and internal organs were strewn about the camp, and the Imperial legate emerged from his tent a moment later. "What in Oblivion do you two think you're doing?! Front and center, soldiers!" He commanded, but Ysgrig instead rolled his eyes, tossing an iron dagger directly into the man's forehead. He collapsed, slowly dying of blood loss before his breathing stopped entirely.

The twins, satisfied with their work, went to search the tents. Sarila found several pouches of gold and a potion of healing. "Ysgrig, look!" She held up the potion for her brother to see. "Good find, Sarila. That could help us out when Chalvia has the baby." Sarila nodded, quickly placing the potion in her satchel. Sarila heard groans of agony coming from the next tent, and she rushed to see what the commotion was. Several of the soldiers injured in battle were lying on cots with bloodied bandages on their heads, dressed in rags. Several bloody rags lay on a nearby table. One soldier looked towards Sarila, reaching his hand out to point at the table. "Please…" He rasped, hacking and coughing after the single word was spoken.

Sarila looked at the table, noticing a potion of vigorous healing sitting in plain sight. She took the potion and tucked it into her satchel, the Imperial soldier weakly trying to stand up and grab it from her. "No…no…" He wheezed as she walked away, leaving the injured soldiers to die.

Ysgrig had looted several chests in the legate's tent, proudly taking a very nice set of steel plate armor from the chest. It had some scratches and dents, but he knew that Omir could easily temper it and make it good as new. He closed the chest and stood up when he heard Sarila approaching. "Have you gotten everything worthwhile?" He asked. "Indeed. I found some gold and some potions of healing." "Then let's get a move on. It's going to be a cold night, sis. Hopefully, Mattha got the fire running."

The twins had returned to the Home, shaking off the cold of Skyrim as they stepped through the door, but were greeted by a panicked Mattha. "Ysgrig, sir! Come quick!" "What?! What's going on? Is the baby coming?!" He asked frantically, Sarila becoming worried as well. "It's Reea'th! He's ill!"

Ysgrig burst into Reea'th's room, Sarila in hot pursuit. Chalvia placed a bowl of apple cabbage stew on the nightstand next to Reea'th's bed, giving a sad smile to Ysgrig as she waddled out of the room. Sa'etha stood over Reea'th's bed, biting her scaly claws out of anxiety. Mattha entered the room next, worriedly sitting in the chair by Reea'th's bed. "Sa'etha, Mattha told me Reea'th is ill. What's going on?" Ysgrig asked, looking at the sick Reea'th. His scales were paling by the minute, and his eyes had a strange, yellowish hue. He gave several loud, hacking coughs, giving Ysgrig a reassuring smile. "He's got the Rattles. Now, I know you might be thinking that Rattles are quite mild, but this particular strain appears to be quite lethal. Normal symptoms of this disease are, as you might know, a fever, tiredness, and a mild cough, but he's turning pale, his eyes are just…just…and he coughed up blood just a few moments ago." Sa'etha explained, clearly panicking herself. "Are we out of potions to cure the disease?" Sarila asked. Sa'etha quickly nodded. "Yes! I don't have the proper ingredients to make another one, and as long as it takes to make one, it would be better to just buy one."

"Sarila, do you know of any alchemist shops that carry potions to cure the Rattles?" Mattha asked, everyone's eyes on Sarila. "No, this is going to be a problem. The alchemist shop in Riften is closed for the next week; Elgrim and Hafjorg went to negotiate at Shor's Stone, and Arcadia doesn't have any in her stock in Whiterun. Apparently, the import crates from Markarth were lost to the Forsworn, and there won't be anymore shipments for the next month or so."

"We could always try Windhelm." Ysgrig suggested, everyone turning to him. "Windhelm? Are you out of your mind? That place is freezing, and besides, it's a long trip." Sa'etha reasoned. "Actually, Ysgrig is right. The trip isn't that long. Ytri and I had gone there a few times, and it's not as bad as it seems. It only took us two days on foot, so it should take much less time in a carriage." Sarila explained. "Well, it looks like we're heading to Windhelm. Anyone care to join us?" Ysgrig asked. "I need to stay here with my brother and watch over him. In this condition, he could die just by catching a common cold." She sadly looked over into Reea'th's eyes .

"I'd be happy to accompany you, sir. I've heard that Adonato Leotelli resides there in Candlehearth Hall, and…well, I'm a _huge_ fan of his work. Did you know that he wrote _Ghosts in the Storm_ and _Olaf and the Dragon_?" She excitedly asked. Ysgrig shook his head. "I did not know that. You should pack up, we leave first thing tomorrow." Ysgrig told her, smiling. Mattha immediately hopped up from her chair and dashed to her room, shouting a faint 'thank you' as she ran through the halls.

"If you don't mind, we'd like to accompany you as well." Caehir's voice rang out as he approached Reea'th's room. Sarila turned around to see Caehir and Qattindra carrying an apple pie to Reea'th's room. Qattindra placed it on the nightstand. "Certainly, the more the merrier." Ysgrig replied. "Thank you, Ysgrig. Us hunters have got to stick together." Qattindra smiled, looking over at Reea'th who shot her a grin before hacking up blood.

Ysgrig cringed. "At this rate, I think it would be best if we leave tonight. There's no telling when Reea'th's condition could worsen." Sarila, Caehir, and Qattindra nodded, all rushing off to their rooms. Sarila knocked on Mattha's door. "You'd best hurry up, Mattha. We're leaving tonight, Reea'th isn't doing so great." "Oh, goodness!" Mattha shouted, several sounds of frantic rustling were heard behind her door. A moment later, a loud thump came from her room. "Are you alright?" Sarila asked. "Yes, yes, just getting some of the essentials!" Mattha replied. She opened the door, an elven dagger in her sheath, and two books in her arms. Sarila looked questioningly at the books in her arms, and Mattha scoffed. "They're two of Adonato Leotelli's books. I'm hoping I'll get a chance to have them signed by the man himself." She excitedly squealed as she dashed down the hallway to meet the others.

 _We'd better hope Windhelm's got a good alchemist._

Sarila headed over to her room and took out a piece of parchment and a quill, dipping it in a nearby inkpot.

 _Marcurio and Lyvette,_

 _Ysgrig and I have to go on an emergency trip to Windhelm, so if you come by the Home and notice we're not there, now you know why. Reea'th has contracted a deadly case of the Rattles, and Windhelm is the nearest city with an active alchemist. Caehir, Mattha, and Qattindra will be accompanying us on this trip, so you needn't worry. Who knows, maybe I'll bring back a pretty new dress for a certain little girl!_

 _Written with love,_

 _Sarila_


	76. Struggles Of The Dunmer

"Well, here we are. Windhelm, safe and sound." The carriage driver announced as the carriage came to a smooth stop by the stables. Several horses were seen munching hay, whinnying and nickering at the chestnut horse pulling the carriage. Sarila wondered how they could even stand the hay if it were practically frozen solid.

One by one, the group hopped off the carriage and onto the snowy ground, the frozen crystals crunching with each step they took. "Candlehearth Hall is at the center of the city, you can't miss it." He turned to Mattha with a sympathetic smile. "Be careful in there, miss. Windhelm is especially dangerous for your kind." Mattha confusedly nodded, wondering what the fellow meant.

The group walked into the city and was immediately greeted by two Nord men harassing a Dunmer woman. Sarila looked over Ysgrig's shoulders. The Nords had apparently thought the lady was an Imperial spy, and were threatening to "pay her a visit" to find out what her intentions were. As the bullies walked away, the woman sighed in defeat. "Are you alright?" Qattindra asked, walking over to her. The Dunmer looked slightly hesitant, but relaxed when she saw Mattha among them. "I'm about as well as any other Dunmer in this run-down city, I suppose." She glumly mumbled.

"What were those fellows harassing you about?" Mattha asked, walking over to the woman. "The Nords of Windhelm are arrogant, self-centered bastards who care nothing for any race other than a Nord. It seems they despise Argonians and Dunmer like ourselves the most." She muttered. Mattha was appalled. "That's awful!" She exclaimed. "No, that's normalcy for residents of Windhelm."

"Well, well, little spy. I see you're conversing with one of your spy friends." One of the men from earlier marched up to the two Dunmer women as Sarila, Qattindra, Caehir, and Ysgrig looked on. "And who might you be?" The man sneered, crossing his arms at Mattha. "I'm Mattha Mavothan, daughter of Telsfar and Anislora Mavothan." She offered him her hand for a handshake. Instead, the man slapped her hand away. Stunned by his rudeness, Mattha stood taller. "And you are?" "Rolff Stone-Fist. I'm a proud supporter of the Stormcloaks, Nord superiority, but one thing I don't support is espionage." He glared at her, coming closer. Mattha decided she'd had enough. "Listen, you illiterate little fop, the Dunmer aren't spies! We haven't done anything to you, so why don't you brush up on your history? High King Torygg invited us here after the Red Mountain's eruption, so we have a right to be here like everyone else."

"Why, you—"

"HANDS OFF!" Ysgrig shouted, pulling Mattha away from Rolff before he could punch her. Rolff scoffed. "Are you drunk? She's a Dunmer, for Talos' sake! Why are you sticking up for her?" He asked, putting his hands on his hips.

"Because she's our friend." Sarila frowned, walking over to Ysgrig and Mattha with Caehir and Qattindra. Rolff shrunk down a bit, but still remained angry as ever. "You've got a Dunmer with you, you've got a Bosmer with you," he pointed at Caehir, who glared at him. "Don't tell me you also have an Argonian!" "We have two, but they're not with us right now." Ysgrig smirked at the man. He desperately tried to think of an insult, but slunk back down the street he had come from.

Mattha turned to the Dunmer woman she had been conversing with. "Well…as you probably heard, my name is Mattha Mavothan. How do you do?" She asked, offering a handshake. "I'm Suvaris Atheron. I have a feeling you and I will get along quite well. And as for your friends," she turned to the group. "I can tell there's something different about you. Thank you ever so much for standing up for us. If you're ever in the Gray Quarter, you should drop by the New Gnisis Cornerclub." She smiled, walking in the opposite direction.

"Let's head over to Candlehearth Hall and get some rooms. I'm sure we'll be needing them soon." Ysgrig announced.

The group had paid for their rooms, and Mattha noted the scowl she received from the owner, Elda Early-Dawn. She quickly headed into her room, keeping her head down in shame.

She flopped on her bed and stared at the ceiling, but stopped when she remembered the reason she wanted to tag along on the trip. She dashed upstairs, her books in her hands, and asked the Dunmer bard, Luaffyn, for the whereabouts of Adonato Leotelli. The helpful bard pointed to a man in red robes at a table, scribbling away in a book. Mattha excitedly thanked Luaffyn and sprinted across the inn to her idol.

Adonato Leotelli looked up when he heard someone clear their throat. "Um…h-hi. My name is Mattha Mavothan, sir. I'm a big admirer of your work, and I was hoping you could sign my copies of your most famous books." Adonato smiled and took her books, flipping to the front page. He signed his name in both, Mattha squealing with excitement. "Thank you ever so much, sir! I'll never forget this!" She thanked, squeezing the books to her chest. Adonato Leotelli chuckled, his eyes gleaming. "It's so good to see someone who actually enjoys literature. Not many people of Skyrim read."

Mattha felt like her heart was going to explode. She was holding a successful conversation with the very man she idolized. She quickly forgot all about the mistreatments of the Dunmer as Adonato Leotelli invited her to dine with him.

Qattindra walked around through the market, observing all the wares. She tripped over a large stone in the streets, and her sword flew away from its sheath several feet away. "Damn." She swore, getting up off the ground to go fetch her sword.

"Here, let me help you with that." A voice offered.

Qattindra looked over to see her sword being picked up by an Imperial in a light red tunic. He held the sword out, and she took it, placing it back in her sheath. "Many thanks. Who might you be?" She asked. "I am Calixto Corrium, owner of Calixto's House of Curiosities. And you are?" "Qattindra. I've come to Windhelm with my friends to retrieve a potion for our sick friend." She explained. "Ah, yes. The power of friendship can do remarkable things, am I right? Say, Qattindra, if you're going to be in town for awhile, why don't I give you a tour of my House of Curiosities? Free of charge, of course." He kindly offered. Qattindra grinned. "Ah, well thank you, Calixto. I'd be happy to!" Calixto smiled, telling her of all the trinkets he and his late sister, Lucilla, had found in their travels as the two walked to his House of Curiosities.

Meanwhile, Sarila waited outside the inn, the letter in her hand. She was told that the courier made his rounds in Windhelm every Morndas. She searched for the fellow and found him when he entered the city. She handed the letter to the courier, paid him a hefty amount of gold, and sent him on his way to deliver the letter to Marcurio and Lyvette.

She just hoped that they would get the potion for Reea'th in time.


	77. A Forced Loan

"That'll be twenty gold, please." Quintus Navale, the assistant shopkeeper at The White Phial requested. Ysgrig nodded and pulled twenty gleaming Septims from his pocket, taking the potion of cure disease from the young man. "Thank you, sir. Hope you come to visit The White Phial again, soon." He beamed as Ysgrig walked out the door.

The moon had risen rather early that night, so Ysgrig retreated to the inn. He had a meager meal of carrots, a potato, and half a bottle of ale before retiring to his room. Mattha had eaten lunch as well as dinner with Adonato Leotelli, who had told her she should write a book, seeing as she was one of the more literate people he'd encountered in Skyrim. She was, of course, flattered, and had considered his suggestion as she headed to her room for the night.

Sarila and Qattindra had a quick, clean bar brawl, the onlookers cheering for them both. The two were no match for each other, though, and had settled for a draw. Qattindra laughed heartily. "You've certainly grown stronger, Sarila! And to think, you were once the tiny woman Reea'th, Caehir and I rescued that day all those months ago." She grinned, giving Sarila a punch on the shoulder, Caehir laughing at the memory as well. Sarila shrugged, smiling. "Well, what can I say? Ysgrig's really done his part in whipping me into shape."

Qattindra headed back to her room with a bottle of wine, and Caehir and Sarila had a few bottles of ale as well before heading to their rooms. Sarila lay on her bed, wondering what was happening at the Home.

Reea'th slowly opened his yellowing eyes with a groan of pain. He violently coughed before gently rolling onto his side. Sa'etha placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, and he gave a weak smile. "It'll be alright, Reea'th. We're going to get you a potion to make you all better. " She promised her sick brother. He nodded, closing his eyes once more, his breathing heavy and uneven.

Chalvia had been busy that night, cooking soup for Reea'th along with broiled rabbit for Sa'etha, Omir, and herself. She'd had several carrots in between meals. She knew she had to eat more since she was eating for two, and each day, she felt heavier and heavier with the growing child inside her. She carried the bowl of soup to Reea'th's room and let Sa'etha know the broiled rabbit was ready. She offered to watch Reea'th while Sa'etha got her meal.

Sa'etha helped Reea'th sit up to eat his soup in bed before heading to the dining hall. Reea'th slurped the soup up in no time flat, gently lying back down. "Chalvia, talk to me. I feel better when I hear good things." He requested, struggling to keep his eyes open. "Well, your sister's been telling me that she thinks the baby is due very soon." "How soon?" "Soon, soon." She emphasized with a smile from ear to ear. Reea'th weakly laughed, several small coughs erupting. "She thinks it's going to be a boy. Ysgrig thinks it's a boy, and so does Omir. Mattha, Caehir, and I think it's a girl. What do you think?" She asked the sickly Argonian.

"Well, Omir is almost always right about everything, and Sa'etha has undergone medical training, so I'm going to have to side with them and say it's a boy. Sorry, Chalvia." He chuckled slightly, Chalvia joining him. "Well, you're entitled to your own opinion." She replied. Sa'etha entered the room, holding her plate of broiled rabbit. "Thank you for watching him, Chalvia. I appreciate it." The Argonian doctor smiled, sitting down in the chair next to her brother's bed. "It was no trouble at all. Don't worry, Reea'th. The others will get you your potion and you'll be as fit as a fiddle in no time. Just you wait." She smiled, waddling out of the room to get her dinner.

Qattindra sat at the small table in her room, reading a book. "Maybe reading isn't as bad as I originally thought." She mumbled to herself, silently thanking Mattha for suggesting she read this particular book.

Qattindra looked up from her book when she heard a knock at her door. "Come in." She quietly called, looking back at her book.

The door opened with a creaking cry, and a shadowy figure entered the room.

"Hello, Qattindra."

"Ah, hello! What brings you here?" She asked curiously, not looking up from her book.

The door closed behind the person as they shuffled inside. "It seems you have some necessary resources that I require for a project I'm currently conducting. Might I borrow them?"

"Resources? I don't know what kind of resources I'd have, but you can borrow them if you really need them." The person nodded, slowly creeping towards Qattindra. "Well, for starters, I need some blood, some bone marrow, some internal organs, and some flesh." The figure unsheathed their iron dagger, now a foot away from her, and Qattindra finally looked up from her book. "What do you think you're doing?! Help! HELP!"


	78. On The Case

Sarila suddenly jolted upright in bed. She could have sworn she'd heard a scream. She shrugged it off. "Probably the ale going to my head…" She mumbled as she rolled back over and closed her eyes.

"What in Oblivion is going on?!" She heard Elda Early-Dawn yell. The sound of rapid footsteps soon filled the hallway and Sarila got out of bed to see what the commotion was all about.

"BY THE GODS, NO!" She heard Caehir shout, and she soon ran to the source of the shouting.

Qattindra lay in a puddle of blood on the ground, the blood spreading out as it leaked from her corpse. She was stripped down to her breastband and panties, several cuts and chunks of flesh taken from her body. Sarila stared in shock, and more and more people from the inn gathered in Qattindra's room. "Qattindra! She's…she's dead!" Sarila yelled to Ysgrig and Mattha, who had just come down the hallway. "What?!" Mattha gasped, and Ysgrig picked up his pace. "By the Gods…she's gone!" He exclaimed. "What are all these strange cuts? They're shaped like…like…crescents and stars!"

"Coming through, coming through, excuse me!" A loud, Nord woman's voice rang out through the crowd, making her way to the murder scene. She took one look at Qattindra's battered body and clenched her fists. "The Butcher…The Butcher has struck again!" She exclaimed. "The Butcher? Who in Oblivion is The Butcher, and why has he murdered our friend?!" Ysgrig demanded. The woman shook her head. "No one knows! The Butcher's gone around Windhelm killing young women, cutting their bodies up and tearing them apart…one thing's for certain, The Butcher hasn't killed any men yet."

"Who has The Butcher killed so far?" Sarila asked, looking back down at Qattindra with sadness in her eyes. "At least, who has The Butcher killed other than Qattindra?"

"Well, the first victim was Friga Shatter-Shield. She's one of the twins of clan Shatter-Shield, sister of Nilsine Shatter-Shield. The second girl murdered was Fjotli Cruel-Sea, daughter of Torsten and Hillevi Cruel-Sea. And now…now your friend!" She exclaimed, intense anger burning in her eyes. "How do you know all this?" Caehir asked. "I've spent years of my life here in Windhelm trying to apprehend this murderer. I've posted fliers everywhere warning people of this murderer on the streets, but someone keeps taking them down! I'm going to be driven to absolute insanity if this killer is never caught!" She frantically explained, wildness in her eyes.

"Well, we'll help you. We need to capture The Butcher and make him pay very dearly for the death of our friend. I just…oh, Gods…" Mattha fell to her knees, watching Qattindra's still body. "We need to give her a proper burial. We can't just leave her like this." Caehir gently stated, looking away from his friend's bloodied corpse.

The gravedigger, Helgird, came and took Qattindra's body to the Hall of the Dead to inspect it before the burial, Mattha and Ysgrig accompanying her. "Strange…" She mumbled. "These cuts were made from an iron dagger. The last two victims were cut up by some kind of curved blade that the ancient Nords used to embalm the dead with." She explained to Ysgrig and Mattha, who exchanged saddened glances. Helgird turned back to speak to the two, but turned away when she saw how sad they looked. She herself didn't enjoy having to prepare so many young women for burial, but it was her job.

"I've had my suspicions about this place for quite awhile, now." The woman now known as Viola Giordiano explained to Sarila and Caehir. "This is Hjerim, the home of the late Friga Shatter-Shield, and the site of the very first murder." She mumbled. "It's locked, though, and I don't have a key."

Sarila stepped up to the lock and inserted her lockpick. With a few jiggles and twists, the lock was undone, and the door opened easily. "Everyone be very quiet. Who knows, The Butcher could be in here at this very moment." Viola warned, closing the door behind them as they spread out, observing the house. Several old bloodstains announced their presence on the floor, leading to a nearby chest. Sarila slowly approached the chest. "This is certainly interesting."

"Honestly, this Butcher business is none of my concern. Until he takes a Dunmer, I'll have no care for what goes on." Ambarys Rendar, the owner of New Gnisis Cornerclub, sneered. "I understand why you don't care for the people of Windhelm, but this is really quite important." Ysgrig explained, Mattha nodding. "You see, our friend was just murdered by The Butcher, so if you find any clues, any hints, or hear any news, tell us, please." Mattha requested. Ambarys would have declined if it had been Ysgrig who had asked, but shrugged and complied. "Alright. For a fellow Dunmer." He gave a polite nod, and the two thanked him, walking out of the Cornerclub.

Back in the Home, Reea'th awoke, feeling slightly better than before. He turned to Sa'etha, who was reading a book at his bedside. "You know something, dear sister?" He asked, prompting her to look at him. "What is it?" "I feel like something has gone horribly wrong in Windhelm."


	79. Dead And Buried

After rooting around in Hjerim for awhile, Caehir had discovered a strange amulet. When he took it to Viola, she immediately suggested they get it appraised by Calixto Corrium at his House of Curiosities. Caehir and Sarila made a mental note and continued to poke around. Eventually, Sarila opened a wardrobe and discovered a false back panel. When she pushed it back, an eerie room with an altar was revealed.

Blood splattered the floor and the altar, and baskets and buckets of bloodied body parts were kept on the ground. Sarila, disgusted by what she'd just found, called the others to come see. Slowly, she entered the room and found a reddish journal on the altar. She quickly undid the clasp and opened to the first page.

 _17 tendons and assorted  
ligaments  
173 fragments of bone for  
assemblage  
approx. 4 bucket-fulls of  
blood (Nord preferred)  
6 spoons of marrow (no more  
than 2 from a thigh)  
12 yards of flesh (before  
cutting)_

 _star-scrying to the edge of the  
ice-mind  
look to the lights where the  
souls dance  
revealing the time when a  
spark will revive  
when the rotted united under  
most skillful hands _

_(translation from Aldmer  
text, as interpreted by the  
Ayleids and first transcribed  
by Altmer. provenance and authority  
unknown)_

 _soon_

Sarila was growing more and more appalled as she explored the house. "Viola, Caehir, come read this." She called, and her two companions came forth to read the creepy journal entry. "What kind of sick person would need all this? And what for?" Caehir asked, shocked at the journal's contents. "It sounds like it's for some kind of necromantic ritual." Viola suggested casually, though she herself was turning green. "I think we've seen enough of Hjerim to know that The Butcher is obviously having some serious problems with his life. Let's get out of here and go get that amulet appraised." Sarila suggested, and the pair nodded, following her out of the house of the dark rituals.

Viola had kindly pointed them in the direction of Calixto's House of Curiosities. They thanked Viola and bid her farewell, heading over to see Calixto. They entered the House of Curiosities and were immediately greeted by Calixto himself. "Do you know anything about this amulet?" Sarila quickly asked, holding up the amulet for Calixto to see. He squinted, looking closely at the strange piece of jewelry. "Ah, yes. This is the Wheelstone. It's an heirloom symbol of the power of Windhelm. Traditionally it's carried by the court mage. I would…eh…be interested in acquiring it. If you're willing to part with it, that is. For a piece like that, I could pay…500 gold?" He offered, sifting through his coinpurse. Sarila shrugged and handed him the amulet. "You have yourself a deal, sir." "Wonderful. This will be a splendid addition to my private collection." He beamed, handing her a purse of 500 shining Septims.

Caehir and Sarila walked out of Calixto's house, heading back to check on Ysgrig and Mattha's progress. "Alright, so he seems to think it belongs to the court mage, so we at least have a lead on someone." Caehir declared. Sarila nodded. "Right. I think it's best we speak to the mage personally, though. He might know what's really going on, and where The Butcher is going to strike next.

Ysgrig and Mattha left the graveyard and headed back to Candlehearth Hall. Mattha introduced Ysgrig to Adonato Leotelli, and they all had their supper together. Mattha couldn't help but feel Qattindra's death looming over her, and it put her in a sour mood. Adonato did his best to cheer her up with several quotes from his books. It had worked somewhat, he'd noted, but he knew that the loss of a friend was quite devastating.

"My what, now? I've never kept a journal, I can assure you." Wuunferth the Unliving, the court mage, assured Sarila after she'd told him she'd found "his" journals and amulet. "What exactly did this amulet look like?" He asked. "Errr….eight-sided, jade, ringed with ebony. A worn carving." Caehir described off his memory. Wuunferth scratched his bearded chin. "I know it well. Or at least, I've heard of it. I would wager that carving once depicted a skull. That is the Necromancer's Amulet, of legend. It appears you were at least half right. There is necromancy at the heart of this."

Sarila shrugged. "I guess Calixto was wrong." She plainly stated. "Eehh…Calixto and his books are often confused about such matters. It happens to the best of us." He replied. "So what can we do now?" Caehir inquired. "I've been noting a pattern to when the killings happen. Now that we know they're tied in to some sort of necromantic ritual, I think I know when the next might occur." He paused, perplexed, as if calculating something. "Let's see. From a Loredas of Last Seed until a Middas of Heartfire…it will happen soon. Very soon. Keep watch in the Stone Quarter tomorrow night. That's almost certainly where the killer will strike next." He ordered, and Sarila and Caehir nodded, marching out of the Palace of the Kings.

The Stone Quarter, containing the marketplace, was fairly quiet that night. Mattha and Ysgrig had gone to the marketplace to buy some food for the road. Ysgrig was convinced they'd survive a carriage ride without food, but Mattha claimed the ride would go by much faster if they had a few snacks on the way over. "What do you care how fast it goes? You're always buried away in your books." "Well, if at all possible, I'd like to get out of this city as quick as possible. This is no place for a Dunmer, and after what happened to Qattindra, I don't feel like sticking around to find out what might happen."

The two approached the food stall, and Mattha looked at what foods the group might need for the road. "Think we'd need some tomatoes?" She asked Ysgrig. "Pick out whatever you think we might need. It doesn't make much difference to me." He shrugged.

A dark figure cloaked in the shadows approached the corner, slowly creeping towards the marketplace.

"I was thinking we could use some bread, but it might get moldy. Instead, how about some tomatoes—" A curved blade quickly pierced Mattha's skull. Blood splattered all over Ysgrig, startling him. "And…carrots…or…I…Ysgrig…" Mattha collapsed, blood flowing from the gaping hole in her head, her red eyes still open. Ysgrig looked up to see a strange Imperial dressed in a light red tunic. "You BASTARD!" He yelled, brandishing the mace Omir had forged for him.

Sarila and Caehir heard Ysgrig's shouting. They took a quick, horrified glance at one another and ran to the Stone Quarter. Ysgrig was holding back a sword attack from the attacker. Sarila noticed Mattha lying dead on the ground, a hole in her head. She ignored the sorrow she felt in her heart and rushed to Ysgrig's aid. She made a clean slice through the murderer's neck with her daggers, and his head fell to the floor.

It was none other than Calixto Corrium.

Sarila ignored the man she'd just put down and looked at Mattha's unmoving body. Caehir and Ysgrig approached, looking down at their fallen friend.

The three carried Mattha to Helgird to prepare her for a burial alongside Qattindra and left solemnly. They reported their success at finding The Butcher to the guards and left the city immediately.

On her way out, though, Sarila was stopped by a guard. "That amulet of yours…'Ytri'…I knew someone with that name." He'd casually told her. "What can you tell me about her?" She asked, curiously. "Well, she was with the Stormcloaks with her betrothed. Fella's name was Terdel, I think. Anyway, she was an ally of the Thieves' Guild back in the day. That's really all I can remember." He replied.

Sarila thanked the guard and set out to the carriage with Caehir and Ysgrig with a new mission in her mind.

She aimed to find out about Ytri, her connections to the Guild, and why she'd rescued Sarila and Ysgrig.

 **A/N: You guys know the drill. Preview for special chapter: COMMENCE!**

"Valie!" Sarila called as she hopped down the ladder to the cistern, prompting the auburn-haired woman to turn around. "What's wrong?" "Nothing, I just need you to check the Guild records for someone." She replied, dashing over to Valelia's desk. "Uh, alright, what's their name?" She asked, flipping through the book. "Ytri." Valie flipped through several pages and carefully looked over every name of every contact until she found Ytri.

"Marcurio, we need to go back to the Home." Sarila declared. "What? What happened?" The surprised Imperial mage asked. "Qattindra and Mattha just passed away, and they're going to need our help." Lyvette emerged from the corner of the room. "Can we come, too?" She asked, holding up her doll. "Of course you can. We're going to need you, too. You'll be a big help." Sarila assured the excited little girl.

"This isn't happening. This isn't happening!" Chalvia frantically screamed, grasping her stomach. "Chalvia! Stay calm! Please, listen to me!" Caehir ordered. He turned to Sarila and Omir. "Get Sa'etha and Ysgrig, I'll get Chalvia to her room!" He shouted, helping the heavily pregnant woman down the hall.

Omir, Sarila, Caehir, Lyvette, and Marcurio waited outside Chalvia's room. Marcurio had brought several chairs from the dining hall into the hallway. The group sat and waited anxiously, their nerves tensing as Chalvia's screams of pain grew louder. Suddenly, her room went completely silent, save for heavy, shaky breathing. The group waited and waited for a sound to ring out, but none came. Lyvette turned to Sarila. "Sarila? What happened?" Sarila looked down at the ground, wanting to avoid the truth, but couldn't. **"I…I just don't know, Lyvette."**


	80. I Promise

**A/N: Hey guys! It's been awhile, I know. I just finished my summer class, and I have a few weeks until the regular year resumes. Things are somewhat calm for now, I'm sooooo sorry for not updating, but hey, look at it this way; it built up some suspense for chapter 80, amirite? Well, it's time…at long last! As always, I really appreciate reviews, lemme know how I'm doing, story time!**

The trio spoke little on the carriage ride back to the Home. Sarila remained on the carriage after Caehir and Ysgrig hopped off; for she wanted to return to Riften. Ysgrig turned around just before the carriage started moving. "Sarila, if you could, please bring Marcurio and Lyvette. We're going to need some help around the Home after…well, you know. Reea'th might need some caretaking, and Chalvia is due any day now." He explained, his golden-haired sister nodding as the carriage drove off.

Once the city gates were in sight, Sarila paid the driver and headed into Riften. As much as she wanted to see Lyvette and Marcurio, the guard's words rang over and over in her head.

 _"That amulet of yours…'Ytri'…I knew someone with that name." He'd casually told her. "What can you tell me about her?" She asked, curiously. "Well, she was with the Stormcloaks with her betrothed. Fella's name was Terdel, I think. Anyway, she was an ally of the Thieves' Guild back in the day. That's really all I can remember." He replied._

Sarila knew the Guild kept detailed records of every deal, fence, and contact they'd made. Valie or Brynjolf most likely knew exactly where to find them. If Ytri truly was an ally to the Guild, she would undoubtedly be written down in the records somewhere. Sarila headed into the graveyard and pressed the button on the coffin, triggering the secret entrance to the cistern.

"Valie!" Sarila called as she hopped down the ladder to the cistern, prompting the auburn-haired woman to turn around. "What's wrong?" "Nothing, I just need you to check the Guild records for someone." She replied, dashing over to Valelia's desk. "Uh, alright, what's their name?" She asked, flipping through the book. "Ytri." Valie flipped through several pages and carefully looked over every name of every contact until she found Ytri.

"This the one?" Valelia asked, pointing at Ytri's name. Sarila nodded. "Most likely. There aren't many out there with the name 'Ytri'." "Aye. What do ye need to know 'bout her?" "As much as I can find out. I want to learn about my past, how she's connected to the Guild, why she saved my brother and I that night…" Sarila rambled. Valie nodded, realizing how much it meant to Sarila. She stepped away from the desk. "All yours, Sarila. Take as much time as ye need." She told her, heading towards the door to the Flagon as Sarila buried herself in the records.

 _Name: Ytri Steel-Eyes_

 _Age: 26_

 _Position: Fence & Scout_

 _Standing On The Civil War: Enlisted as a Stormcloak Soldier_

 _Known Family Connections: Terdel Jolnif (Betrothed)_

 _Partner: Battori Cairn-Spring_

 _Status: Unknown, missing_

 _Last Seen: 4E 194, 13_ _th_ _of Sun's Dusk. Last seen fleeing Windhelm with Sarila Cairn-Spring after she was caught stealing food, jewelry, and gold._

Sarila blinked, not believing what she was seeing.

 _Last seen fleeing Windhelm with Sarila Cairn-Spring after she was caught stealing food, jewelry, and gold._

All she could do was reread the sentence over and over again.

She had her eyes on one bit of the sentence in particular.

 _Sarila Cairn-Spring. Sarila Cairn-Spring. Sarila Cairn-Spring._

 _My name…my name is Sarila Cairn-Spring._

She looked back up to the middle of the passage.

 _Partner: Battori Cairn-Spring_

 _My father was her partner._

Sarila quickly flipped pages, searching for any names under _Cairn-Spring._ She stopped when she found the exact one she was looking for; Battori Cairn-Spring.

 _Name: Battori Cairn-Spring_

 _Age: 48_

 _Position: Professional infiltrator, certified fence_

 _Standing On The Civil War: Enlisted as a Stormcloak Soldier_

 _Known Family Connections: Fridki Cairn-Spring (Wife), Sarila Cairn-Spring (Daughter), Ysgrig Cairn-Spring (Son)_

 _Partner: Ytri Steel-Eyes_

 _Status: Deceased_

 _Cause Of Death: Family farm was attacked by Thalmor agents. Ytri was sent to rescue Battori and his family, but has since disappeared, only being encountered randomly in the cities by pure chance. His wife died alongside him, the whereabouts of his son are unknown, and he is presumed to be dead. There is a possibility that his daughter, Sarila, still lives, as she has been seen with Ytri, though in the passing years, this remains unknown._

Sarila closed the book. She felt different, though not in a bad way. She had just answered one of the biggest mysteries of her life, and had found out her full name as well as Ysgrig's.

Sarila closed the book, looking up when she saw Valie stroll over with a bottle of wine from the Flagon. "Did ye find everything alright, lass?" She asked. Sarila nodded, her lips quivering before tugging upwards in a smile. "My name…my name is Sarila Cairn-Spring." She uttered. Valie looked confused for a moment, and was about to ask Sarila what she was talking about, but the excited Nord woman ran out of the cistern and hopped up the ladder immediately, leaving the auburn to scratch her head in confusion.

Sarila dashed up to the Bee and Barb, ignoring her excitement when she remembered she needed to get Marcurio and Lyvette. She felt her heart skip a beat when she found her lover sitting at the bar, twirling a dagger on the countertop. He saw her from the corner of his eye and turned to her, smiling. "I got your letter, Sarila. I assume Reea'th is on his way to recovering." He greeted with a grin.

"Marcurio, we need to go back to the Home." Sarila declared. "What? What happened?" The surprised Imperial mage asked. "Qattindra and Mattha just passed away, and they're going to need our help." Lyvette emerged from the corner of the room. "Can we come, too?" She asked, holding up her doll. "Of course you can. We're going to need you, too. You'll be a big help." Sarila assured the excited little girl.

"Well, let's get a move on. I'm sure a master of the arcane arts will be a big help in times of need." He boasted, getting up from his barstool. He tucked the dagger into his sheath and headed over towards the door. "Oh, and before I forget, I got you a pretty new dress, Lyvette." Sarila told her adoptive daughter, whose face lit up like a candle. "I'll have to give it to you when we get to the Home, though. It'd be best if we get there quick." Lyvette nodded in understanding and headed out the door with Marcurio, Sarila not far behind.

Sarila paid the carriage driver once more and hopped up into the carriage with Marcurio, offering her hand to Lyvette to pull her up. Once the ebony-haired girl was seated, the carriage set off on the road to the Home.

"Take it easy, Chalvia. It's going to be alright." Caehir soothed, putting a comforting hand on the heavily pregnant Redguard's shoulder. "No, it's not going to be alright. Qattindra and Mattha are gone, and they're not coming back." She bit back, wiping a stray tear from her eye. She gave a groan of pain soon after, and Ysgrig came over to help her sit down. "Chalvia, please stay calm. You can't stress yourself out too much before the baby's arrival." He coolly instructed. "Speaking of which, when do you feel like the baby's coming?" Caehir asked Chalvia, who was grimacing from the pain. "Pretty soon." "How soon?" " _Soon,_ soon." She clarified, putting a hand on her stomach. Ysgrig gave his lover a concerned smile and glanced over at the door. "Gods, I hope Sarila, Marcurio, and Lyvette get back soon."

About fifteen minutes later, the carriage arrived at the Home. The trio hopped off and entered the building. "Ysgrig, we're back!" Sarila called. "In the main hall, Sarila." Ysgrig replied, and the trio headed over to the main hall. Chalvia was sitting on the couch, Ysgrig massaging her aching back while Caehir gently squeezed her hand and assured her she'd be alright. "Hello, everyone. It's good to see you all again." Chalvia gave a small smile, quickly cringing when her back started acting up again.

"How's Reea'th?" Sarila asked Ysgrig. "He's on the mend. Sa'etha says he should be up and walking by tomorrow." He grinned. Sarila smiled and nodded, walking through the hall to the sickly Argonian's room. She gently knocked on the wooden door. "Come in." Sa'etha called out.

Sarila entered the room, gently closing the door behind her. Sa'etha smiled. "Ah, Sarila. Thank you so much for going to get the potion for Reea'th." Sa'etha thanked, gratitude evident in her voice. Omir, who was sitting in the chair across from Sa'etha nodded and flashed a smile to the Nord woman. "Thank you, Sarila. It means a lot." Reea'th thanked, holding back a cough before focusing on Sarila's hair. "You know, I keep doing a double-take on your hair, expecting it to be there, but it's shoulder-length now, and it feels unusual to look at." Reea'th commented, Sarila turning her head so Reea'th could get a better look at her shorter hair. "Nonetheless, it'll keep you safe, and it's a fine choice in a hairstyle, if I do say so myself." The four quietly chuckled.

"Sa'etha! Sa'etha! We need you!" Caehir called frantically from down the hall. "What?!" The four seemed to shout at the same time. "Omir, stay with Reea'th. Sarila, come with me, please." Sa'etha ordered. "No, no, all of you go on. I'll be fine, don't worry." Reea'th worriedly smiled, giving a reassuring nod as the three ran out of the room.

Caehir, Marcurio, and Ysgrig stood by Chalvia, terrified expressions on the faces. "What's—" "Oh, her water broke." Sa'etha quickly answered before Caehir could even ask the question. "We need to get ready. The baby is coming, and it's coming today." Sa'etha ordered. "For now, we need to monitor Chalvia and keep her calm and safe." She looked over at the panicked Chalvia. Sarila turned to Lyvette, who looked just as horrified as the three men.

"Lyvette, why don't you tell Chalvia about your doll? You could tell her a story or put on a show for her. It'll help her calm down and make it easier for the baby to get here." Sarila explained to the worried girl. "Umm…okay." She turned to Chalvia, holding her doll up. She moved the doll's arms and pretended that the doll was talking. "Hello there, Miss Chalvia! I'm your personal entertainer today! I'll be singing a variety of songs that I make up on the spot. You can't find talent like this anywhere else in Skyrim, I tell you!" Lyvette then made the doll bow. "Anything you want me to sing, I'll sing! It's in my contract, you know."

Chalvia was rather amused by the girl's silly antics, and nodded. "How about something with…flowers?" She asked, the pain slowly easing up. "Yes, yes, yes! I can do that, yes!" Lyvette positioned her doll in a dancing pose. "Oh, I am a flower-lover…because…because I like to pick flowers, yes, yes I do! I like to play in the flowers with all my friends…and if I ever see a flower, I will pick it and…give it to you!" She concluded, giving a bow along with her doll as the group applauded her.

Lyvette sang for awhile and danced with her doll until she was worn out. The group stayed by Chalvia, but Ysgrig and Sa'etha ran back to Reea'th's room when he called for them. "He must need some more of the potion." Sa'etha mumbled, heading back to the room.

"Are you feeling alright, Chalvia?" Marcurio asked, prompting the woman to look up at him. "I'll be a lot better once the baby's born, that's for sure." She replied with a slight smile. She suddenly gasped, grasping her stomach. "Chalvia? Chalvia, are you alright?" Omir inquired, hopping up from his spot on the couch. "No. No, no. I…" Chalvia inhaled sharply and let out a cry of pain, her breaths becoming short and forced.

"This isn't happening. This isn't happening!" Chalvia frantically screamed, grasping her stomach. "Chalvia! Stay calm! Please, listen to me!" Caehir ordered. He turned to Sarila and Omir. "Get Sa'etha and Ysgrig, I'll get Chalvia to her room!" He shouted, helping the heavily pregnant woman down the hall.

Marcurio and Lyvette tagged along with Caehir, Lyvette holding Chalvia's hand as she walked. Chalvia looked down into Lyvette's terrified blue eyes. "I'm alright, sweetie. I'm-AAAARRRRGH!" She screamed, grasping her stomach tighter than before. "Come on, Chalvia, we're almost to your room." Marcurio encouraged, holding her arm and supporting her back with his free arm.

"Sa'etha, Ysgrig! Come quick! Chalvia's having the baby!" Sarila exclaimed, bursting into Reea'th's room, startling the three inside. "Go! I've had enough of the potion for now, go help Chalvia!" Reea'th commanded, and the Argonian doctor hopped up from her chair and dashed to Chalvia's room, Ysgrig, Sarila, and Omir in hot pursuit.

Sa'etha and Ysgrig dashed into Chalvia's room, helping her into bed. Caehir, Lyvette, and Marcurio quickly exited, fearing for their friend's safety. Omir closed the door to her room, and quickly rejoined the terrified group.

Omir, Sarila, Caehir, Lyvette, and Marcurio waited outside Chalvia's room. Marcurio had brought several chairs from the dining hall into the hallway. The group sat and waited anxiously, their nerves tensing as Chalvia's screams of pain grew louder. Suddenly, her room went completely silent, save for heavy, shaky breathing. The group waited and waited for a sound to ring out, but none came. Lyvette turned to Sarila. "Sarila? What happened?" Sarila looked down at the ground, wanting to avoid the truth, but couldn't. "I…I just don't know, Lyvette."

She perked up a moment later and knocked on the door. When no reply came, she slowly opened the door.

Ysgrig's shoulders had slumped, and his head hung low. Sa'etha's eyes were sullen as she looked at the tiny, unmoving baby in her hands. Chalvia's breathing was still quick and uneven, tears filling her eyes as she viewed her newborn child. Sarila's heart sunk, and a tear quickly made its way to her eye as she watched Chalvia's heart break over her stillborn child.

Suddenly, the baby coughed several times, color appearing on its skin as it took its first breaths. The once silent room was quickly filled with the cries of a healthy baby boy. Everyone's faces lit up, and the residents of the Home poured into the room to behold their newest member.

Sa'etha handed the baby to Chalvia, who weakly took him. Her eyes welled up with tears as she lovingly nuzzled her son, holding him close. Ysgrig took his place by Chalvia's side. "Gods, Ysgrig. Isn't he beautiful?" She handed the boy to her lover, who took him gratefully. Ysgrig held the boy out, viewing his precious son. Chalvia's skin was quite light for a Redguard, and Ysgrig's was pale as snow. The baby had a skin tone that rested between theirs, and his eyes were the exact color of Ysgrig's. He was tiny and hairless, but his cheeks were full and round.

"He's absolutely wonderful." Sarila told the happy couple, smiling at their beautiful new baby. She walked closer to the newborn. "Well, look at you, handsome little one! You're going to be a big, strong, stud when you're grown! You'll be one storm of a man!" She cooed, gently poking the baby's palm with her finger. She giggled when he reflexively tried to grasp her finger. She suddenly turned to Chalvia, who was beginning to cough violently. "Goodness, Chalvia. You're looking rather pale." She commented aloud, and Sa'etha turned to Chalvia. "Chalvia?" She looked at the blankets beneath the woman. "By the Gods…you've lost a lot of blood." She remarked, aghast.

Chalvia wistfully smiled up at Ysgrig. "I'm so glad I got to see our son, Ysgrig. You tell him that his mother thinks the world of him." She told the love of her life. "Chalvia?" Ysgrig quizzically asked as the Redguard woman slunk back down. "Take good care of him, Ysgrig." She told him, reaching out for him with her hand. "What?! Chalvia, what are you saying?!" Ysgrig asked, quickly whipping around to directly face her. Chalvia weakly shook her head and smiled. "Thank you for everything, Ysgrig. You too, Caehir." She briefly looked at Caehir before turning back to Ysgrig. "Goodbye, my love. I'll miss you." She whispered, her eyes slowly closing. "Chalvia! Chalvia, please open your eyes!"

"I'll always watch over you. Farewell, love." She whispered, smiling as she breathed her final breath.

The Home had gone completely silent for the rest of the day. Ysgrig was devastated and rushed to his room with the baby, locking the doors. He held his son to his chest, rivers of tears flowing from his emerald eyes. He looked down at his son, who was sleeping soundly in his arms. "My little boy…" He whispered, gazing at his new son in awe. "I promise I'll protect you with my life. I'll tell you about all the wonderful people I knew, I'll tell you all about your beautiful, kindhearted mother, and I'll make sure you know how to protect yourself. Mark my words, son. I won't let you slip away." He promised, pressing a gentle kiss to his baby's forehead. He set the child down on the bed next to him and pulled the covers up, snuggling close to his newborn as he drifted off to sleep.


	81. Welcome To Skyrim

The forests of The Rift were still, save for the rustling of the newly-bared spring leaves in the wind. A little rabbit brought a carrot back to her babies, nuzzling each one of her young with affection as the tiny family nibbled on the crisp, crunchy carrot. She perked up for a moment, her ears twitching as she listened closely. Hearing nothing, she went back to dining on the carrot with her babies.

A cacophony of footsteps soon rang out in the forest, and the rabbits dispersed, running from the sudden intrusion.

Sarila had ducked behind the nearest bush, rope in hand. Caehir stood next to her with his sword in its sheath. "You're absolutely sure that thing's a female?" Sarila asked, looking sternly at Caehir. The Bosmer nodded. "I saw it on the carriage ride back. A bear came by and frightened her off, but it looks like she's alright." He replied, watching the cow the two spoke of as it peacefully grazed in the distance.

"Get your rope ready. Be very, very quiet." Caehir motioned for Sarila to follow him. The two crept closer and closer to the cow until it gave a frightened bellow, backing up. The pair was confused; they had been quiet and made no sudden movements. Suddenly, familiar growl rang out in the distance. "She's seen a bear! Protect the cow!" Sarila yelled, and Caehir nodded.

Sarila rushed over to the cow and comfortingly stroked her neck. "Come on, missy. We're going to need your help." She soothingly crooned, tying the rope comfortably around her neck.

Meanwhile, Caehir was fending off the bear with his sword. The bear stood up on its hind legs and let out a fierce roar, quickly lunging back down to slice into Caehir with his claws. Caehir had bounded backwards and quickly got back on his feet. "Come on, Caehir! Let's go!" Sarila called, dashing with the cow back towards the Home.

Caehir looked back at the furry honey-lover and made a slice directly into the fiend's abdomen. The bear groaned in pain but didn't give up its pursuit. Caehir knew that the blow wouldn't kill it, but the blood loss certainly would. The Bosmer quickly turned around and ran back to follow his friend back to the Home.

Sarila and Caehir had made it back to the Home roughly five minutes later feeling energized and accomplished. Sarila led the cow into the pen Omir had built, and she closed the gate behind her. The cow didn't protest, and instead leaned down to resume her grazing.

Sa'etha walked outside and took a good look at the cow. "Excellent work! Without Chalvia here to nurse him, the baby is going to need some kind of nourishment. Granted, cow's milk won't be as healthy, but it's still a good choice." She explained, entering the pen with the cow. "I'll just make sure this cow is healthy. You both should go get something to eat." She instructed, and the pair nodded, walking into the building as the Argonian doctor examined the cow.

"Welcome back, friends! I trust you had a good hunt, hmm?" The scratchy voice of Reea'th, greeted. Sarila gasped in surprise and ran over to see Reea'th, who sat in the dining chair. "Reea'th! You're looking much better. I'm so glad you're alright." She smiled. The Argonian returned her smile. "Well, my throat was ravaged and I still feel slightly drowsy, but I'm doing much better. It means so much to me that you all went out and got me that potion, it truly does."

Sarila shook her head. "No, no! You, Qattindra, and Caehir saved my life all those months ago, it was the very least I could do!" She grinned, pulling her friend in for a hug. Reea'th smiled, and Sarila released him. "Caehir, Omir was asking for your help earlier. Something about a new tempering for one of his blades. You should go see him after you get something to eat." Caehir nodded and headed off into the kitchen to grab an apple. Reea'th turned back to Sarila.

"And as for you," he began. "Ysgrig wanted to speak to you. He's refusing to come out of his room and only wants to speak to you." Reea'th grimaced. Sarila nodded, a sad glint in her violet eyes. "Please make sure he is okay. Ysgrig has stood by us through thick and thin, and it's only fair that we do the same for him." Reea'th begged with a sad smile. "Of course." Sarila rasped, her voice no louder than a whisper.

Sarila knocked on the door to Ysgrig's room. "Sarila?" "Yes, it's me." "Come in, and please shut the door." Ysgrig sternly requested, sadness lacing his voice. Sarila sighed, opening the door and gently closing it after she'd entered the room.

Ysgrig sat on his bed, cradling his baby boy in his arms. The tot's eyes were slightly open, and his little gurgles and coos echoed in the room. "How are you feeling, Ysgrig?" Sarila sympathetically asked, sitting on the bed with her brother. "Not my finest of moments, but I'm feeling much better than yesterday." He mumbled, looking down at his boy's face.

"He's cute, isn't he?" Ysgrig asked. Sarila laughed slightly, prompting Ysgrig to look up at her. "What? What's so funny?" He asked. Sarila shook her head, smiling. "I just never expected someone like you to use the word 'cute'." She grinned. "But yes, I do, in fact, think he is cute." She chuckled, looking into the baby's eyes. "And chubby, too!" She laughed. Ysgrig cracked a small smile and bounced his child up and down, the baby cooing appreciatively.

"You haven't picked out a name for him." Sarila suddenly commented. Ysgrig was surprised with himself. He'd forgotten to give his son a name. "I guess I hadn't thought about it. Would you like to name him, sis?" He asked, shifting slightly on the bed. Sarila shook her head. "That honor should go to you, Ysgrig."

Ysgrig thought for a moment. "I'm trying so hard to think of names. What about Battori?" He asked, suddenly shaking his head and stopping himself. "No, that would be too confusing. It's dad's name, after all." Sarila nodded in agreement. "How about…" He paused.

"Kyrike?"

Sarila blinked. "Kyrike?" She thought about the name for a few moments. "Kyrike, Kyrike, Kyrike…" She repeated. "I like that name. It sounds like the name for a big, strong fellow." She told her brother. The two looked down at the boy, who seemed to gurgle happily at the sound of his new name. Ysgrig smiled, bouncing the boy. "You like that, little guy? Kyrike? You like that name?" He sweetly asked the baby, who cooed happily. Ysgrig chuckled. "Kyrike it is." "You mean Kyrike Cairn-Spring."

"Huh?"

"Kyrike Cairn-Spring." Sarila repeated. "Ysgrig…I did some research yesterday, and…our father is Battori Cairn-Spring. Our mother is Fridki Cairn-Spring. My name is Sarila Cairn-Spring." She waited for Ysgrig to come to the realization.

"Then…I'm Ysgrig Cairn-Spring." He finished, looking down at his son, who looked right back up at him. "Hello, Kyrike Cairn-Spring. Welcome to Skyrim."


	82. War Buddies

"You're absolutely sure about this, Ysgrig?" Sarila asked. "I mean, I'm not disrespecting your judgment, but your baby was just born. What if you…what if you don't come back? What if neither of us come back?"

"I'm sure, Sarila. We've both been training to join up with the Stormcloaks for so long, and Chalvia would've wanted me to pursue my dreams." He sighed at the mention of his fallen love. "Ysgrig, Sarila, go. Join up with the Stormcloaks. I promise you, I'll take good care of Kyrike." Sa'etha looked down at the sleeping boy in her arms.

Ysgrig nodded. "Thank you ever so much, Sa'etha. I promise, Sarila and I will return to the Home. You can count on it." He promised.

"You and Sarila aren't the only ones who will be venturing out of the Home."

The trio turned to see Reea'th and Caehir. Caehir's hair was quite ruffled, and both their swords were speckled with blood. "Caehir? Reea'th? What—" "Imperial soldiers, that's what!" Reea'th hissed, grasping his sword tighter. "I'm getting sick of these bastards picking a fight with us whenever we make a kill. Those uptight, foppish little fencers think they rule the place, and I'm damned tired of it." Caehir ranted. "We've lost three deer and a buck because of those arrogant thieves."

"What we're saying is that we'd like to join the Stormcloaks and put a fight to the Empire and the Aldmeri Dominion. We can't have these shady characters parading around Skyrim as they please." Reea'th explained, his voice calmer. "You're sure you want to join up?" Ysgrig asked, surprised. "Certainly." Caehir confirmed. Reea'th turned to Sa'etha. "Dear sister, I promise that we will all return to you. I swear on the Hist." Sa'etha nodded sadly and got up. She pulled Reea'th in for a hug, careful not to suffocate the baby between their bodies. She sat back down and gently cradled Kyrike.

"We're coming too." A firm voice announced. Sarila turned around to see Marcurio in a suit of steel plate, and Lyvette matching his new set of armor. Had it been months ago, Sarila would have not allowed Lyvette to join them, but the little girl was stronger. She had turned eight two months after they had found out Chalvia was pregnant, and her ninth birthday was just around the corner.

Sarila knelt down so she was eye level with her daughter. "Do you want to go?" She asked kindly. Lyvette nodded with a passion flaring in her eyes. "The elves are mean, so are the Imperials. I don't like them. Especially not after what the elves tried to do to us in Whiterun." She explained, anger lacing her voice. "Alright, then. So we've got an entire group coming with us for the war. Do you think Omir would like to join us?" Ysgrig asked Sa'etha.

"I never considered myself the warrior type." Omir's voice rang out in the dining hall. He exited the kitchen, revealing his place. "But I do wish for you all to bring peace to our fair land. May the roads lead you all to warm sands." He smiled, walking out of the hall back to his forge.

The group had packed up and said their goodbyes to Sa'etha, Omir, and Kyrike, and headed out to Riften to catch the carriage. It seemed to Sarila, the more she went back and forth from Riften to the Home, the shorter the trips got.

Soon enough, they had reached the city's gates. The carriage wasn't in its usual spot, so Sarila asked the guard at the gate when the carriage was due to return. "In about a day, at most. Maven Black-Briar headed off to her lodge. It's not that far from Riften, so the carriage should be back by tomorrow." The guard explained. Sarila nodded. "Come on, everyone. The Bee and Barb will have some room for us all."


	83. Caehir's Paranoia

"What's the plan for when we head into Windhelm?" Caehir asked. "Well…this might be a little hard for the rest of us to hear," he glanced at everyone who hadn't been to Windhelm. "But the people in Windhelm don't exactly appreciate anyone who's not a Nord. Hopefully, they'll change their tune when they see we're joining the Stormcloaks."

Everyone nodded. "Head for the Palace of the Kings immediately after we enter the city. Once we've got our orders from Ulfric Stormcloak, or whoever his second in command may be, head to Candlehearth hall, get our rooms, and then carry out whatever task we've been commissioned." Ysgrig finished. "Did we get all that?" He asked, eyeing everyone. Lyvette raised her hand. "Yes, Lyvette?"

"Will there be other kids in the army?" She asked. "Most likely, no." Ysgrig answered. Lyvette nodded, hoping there would be at least one other person her age in the Stormcloak Rebellion.

"Any other questions?" Ysgrig asked. When he was answered with silence, he got up from his chair. "Good. I'm turning in for the night. I suggest you all do the same." He headed into the room he shared with Caehir. Reea'th headed into his own room, being the only one without a roommate. Sarila, Lyvette, and Marcurio headed back to their room.

Lyvette was fast asleep in her own bed rather quickly, holding her doll close to her heart. Sarila smiled at the little girl and rolled over in bed, and in doing so, unexpectedly met Marcurio's gaze. "Oh." She quietly gasped in surprise. Marcurio smiled. "You're adorable when you're surprised." He murmured, brushing a stray lock of her shoulder-length hair out of her face.

Sarila blushed. "I just didn't expect you to be looking at me. It just made me a little jumpy." She chuckled sheepishly. "Well, you're still adorable." Marcurio grinned. "Oh, stop it." She blushed, looking away. "But it's true." His grin widened. Sarila met his gaze once more. "Well, you're not so bad looking yourself." "Of course I'm not. I'm Marcurio, handsomest wizard in all of Tamriel." He jokingly boasted. "I'll have to agree with you, there." She giggled, and she closed her eyes as Marcurio pressed a kiss to her lips.

The kiss was long and sweet, and it left the two breathless as they pulled away. Marcurio quickly claimed her lips again, only this time, the kiss was more lust-driven and needy. He nibbled on her lower lip, drawing a soft moan from Sarila's throat, and seizing his opportunity, he pushed his tongue into her mouth, attacking hers. Sarila fought back with uncertain passion evident in her heart, but she quickly broke the kiss and looked away, blushing. Marcurio gave her a quizzical look, and she glanced over at Lyvette.

"We can't. Lyvette is right over there." She whispered. Marcurio took a look at the sleeping girl. She mumbled something in her sleep and rolled over. Marcurio shook his head. "Nah. She's a heavy sleeper. We'll be fine." He assured his love. Sarila took one final glance at her adoptive daughter and nodded. The two kissed once more, only this time, it was Sarila who had taken control. Marcurio broke the kiss and pulled the covers entirely over their forms as they shed their clothes.

Meanwhile, Caehir was pacing around the room with an anxious demeanor. "Damn it, Caehir. Some of us are trying to sleep." Reea'th's annoyed voice sounded out from behind the door, startling Caehir and Ysgrig, who had been sleeping. "Sorry, Reea'th. I'll stop. You can return to sleep." Caehir sheepishly apologized, sitting on his bed and biting his nails.

"What's on your mind, Caehir?" Ysgrig asked, sitting up in bed and rubbing his eyes. "I…" Caehir gulped. "I'm nervous about Windhelm. Last time we were there, two of our people were murdered." He explained. Ysgrig was fully awake by now. "But we caught The Butcher. He's dead, and he can't hurt anyone else." Ysgrig appeased. Caehir shook his head and sighed. "I'm just worried. It's not about The Butcher, it's about Qattindra, Mattha, and…Chalvia. They're…gone. In only a short time span, three of us are dead, and who knows who could be next?!" Caehir asked, hysterical.

"Easy! Easy, Caehir! How much have you had to drink tonight?" Ysgrig questioned. "Not a drop. Not a drop of mead nor wine. I swear to you, I'm sober. I just…I can't fathom the idea of losing someone else. What if it's Reea'th? What if it's you? What if it's me?" He rambled, panic clearly evident in his voice. "Caehir, you need to calm down and think about this for a moment. There's no guarantee that anyone else is going to die." Ysgrig explained. "But there's no guarantee that we're all going to live, either." Caehir responded. "Well, you have me there, but I don't plan on letting anyone else die, understand?" Caehir nodded, some of the terror in his eyes fading. "Good." Ysgrig yawned, laying back down. "Now go back to sleep, dammit."


	84. The First Order

The streets of Windhelm were covered in snow. Despite it being spring, Skyrim was always snowy and cold in the northern regions. Thankfully, the group had made it to Windhelm in the carriage safely and early that morning. They had met up with Ulfric Stormcloak, who directed them to his second in command, Galmar Stone-Fist. Galmar had welcomed Sarila and Ysgrig with open arms, but stopped when he came to face Reea'th, Caehir, and Marcurio. "You all are foreigners; an Argonian, a Wood Elf, and an Imperial. Tell me; why would a foreigner want to fight for Skyrim?" He patiently waited for his answer.

"Skyrim is home to more than just the Nords." Marcurio replied. "The Imperials and Aldmeri Elves are nothing more than bullies, and we need to cleanse the land of them." Caehir added, Reea'th nodding in agreement. "Well, before I let you all into our rebellion, you'll need to-" "Wait! What about me?" Galmar looked down to see Lyvette looking up at him with her big, blue eyes. "What about you?" He asked. "Can't I join?" She asked with an excited grin.

Galmar chuckled, then quickly stopped himself. He laughed again, harder than he had originally. "But…you…" He finished chuckling wiping a tear from his eye. "You're just a little girl." He told her. "She's just a little girl. She'd just be risking her life out there on the battlefield. Besides, we've never had a child in our ranks." Galmar explained to the group. Sarila looked Galmar directly in the eyes. "She's a _valuable_ little girl. She's been through things you can't even imagine." She told him. Galmar looked around the group. Each person shook their head in agreement. "Has she killed?" He asked Sarila with a serious demeanor. "Yes." "A person?" "Indeed. I wouldn't be here if she hadn't. Saved my life."

Galmar cleared his throat and collected his thoughts. "Alright. Well, before I let any of you into the Stormcloak Rebellion, you're going to need to test your mettle. Since there's a group of you, I'll need to give you all something more challenging." He began. Everyone nodded, waiting for their orders to come. "You're going to be delving into an Imperial camp. Make sure no soldiers leave that place alive." Galmar ordered. "Are we clear?" "Yes, sir!" Everyone replied. "Good. You've got real fire in you. I like that. Talos guide you all."

Everyone left the Palace of the Kings with the Imperial camp's location in mind. "Sarila, this is going to be easy. We've gone into an Imperial camp before, and we both came out unscathed." Ysgrig told his sister. "Ysgrig is right. The Imperials don't have very defensive armor, so we can use that to our advantage." She explained. "Well, let's get a move on, then. They can't be too tough for us to defeat." Marcurio excitedly encouraged.

They had journeyed to the Imperial camp. Ysgrig had everyone gather around behind the hill that separated them from the Imperial camp. "Here's the plan. Sneak up nice and quiet, then get your weapons ready to—" He paused. "Has anyone seen Marcurio?"

Suddenly, there was a large explosion of flames in the Imperial camp, startling everyone. Ysgrig, Sarila, and Caehir ran over the hill, Lyvette and Reea'th following closely. "Marcurio!" Caehir called out.

Sarila couldn't believe her eyes. Marcurio was flinging rapid balls of fire into the Imperial camp. Every soldier was on deck, and they were all headed straight for Marcurio. "MARCURIO!" Sarila screamed, unsheathing her ebony daggers. Everyone charged down from the hill, weapon raised. "Stormcloaks!" An Imperial shouted.

Marcurio fended the Imperials off with his chain lightning spell, and whenever one got too close, Sarila or Ysgrig would dispatch the unlucky fellow with a clean slice through the neck or abdomen.

After a particularly rough struggle in close combat with a soldier, Caehir found himself on the ground with an Imperial on top of him. He pushed the man's sword away from him with his own sword, but his arms were close to giving out.

The soldier's head came clean off a moment later, and Caehir pushed the corpse off his body. Lyvette helped Caehir up, who looked at her in astonishment. "You saved my life. Thank you, Lyvette." "Come on, Mister Caehir!" She called to him, running off to rejoin the battle.

Marcurio was burning through the soldiers quite literally with his fireballs and flame spells, and with Sarila, Ysgrig, and Reea'th at his side, he had no fears. The Imperial mage soon grew cocky, and ran over to face the Imperial legate. "Have any last words?" Marcurio asked, a smug grin on his face.

He fell to the ground, clutching his jaw where the Imperial legate had just punched him. "Damned rebels! When will you learn you won't get the best of the legion?!" He spat, raising his sword. "NO!" Sarila yelled. "MARCURIO!"

"AAARGH!" The Imperial legate's sword fell to the ground, along with his hand that was grasping it. The legate blinked thrice before clutching the stump where his hand used to be. "Bitch!" He yelled at Sarila, who glared at him as he stumbled backwards, dazed from the loss of blood. "The Imperial…legion…will get you all…for this!" He yelled, his voice growing raspy. Sarila huffed and plunged her daggers into his abdomen, not piercing his heart. "We should just leave you here to die." She spat in his face. The legate briefly released his bleeding arm to wipe the spit off his face.

"Sarila?" Ysgrig was taken aback by Sarila's sudden coldness. "We can't just leave him to die! That's inhumane." "It's more of a mercy than any of the Imperials or the Elves ever showed us." She bit back. She sighed a moment later and ran a hand through her hair. "Alright." She plunged one of her daggers into the man's heart, ending his life.

She turned to Marcurio a moment later. "What were you THINKING?" She asked, her voice growing louder. "Let's leave them to sort this little bit of business out, shall we?" Reea'th grimaced, leading the group away from the couple. "You could've been killed, and we couldn't have done anything about it!" Sarila yelled. "But I wasn't killed! I'm fine! I just wanted to—" Sarila silenced him by pressing a rough kiss to his lips.

Marcurio was surprised but closed his eyes and kissed back. Sarila pulled away from him a moment later. "I can't lose you, Marcurio." She whispered, embracing him. "I've lost too many people already. Mom, dad, Terdel, Ytri, Kharjo, Qattindra, Mattha, Chalvia…" She trailed off, tears filling her eyes. "I can't lose you. I can't lose you." She repeated, Marcurio wrapping his arms around her.

"You won't, Sarila. And I can't lose you." He whispered. "I'll get myself killed before I let you die. I love you, Sarila." He pulled away and looked into her eyes. "I mean it." The two smiled at each other and hugged once more. "Come on. Let's go catch up with them." Marcurio suggested, and Sarila nodded. The two walked hand-in-hand over the hill where the others waited, setting out for Windhelm.


	85. Blue Magic

They had all returned to Candlehearth Hall that evening after they had been officially sworn in as Stormcloaks. Ysgrig ordered a drink immediately, and drowned himself with thoughts of Chalvia.

He was startled by a sudden tug on his sleeve. The redhead looked down to see a certain little girl looking up at him with her big, blue eyes. "What're you drinking?" She asked in a sing-song voice. "Alto wine." "May I have some? Please? Please, pleasey please-please?"

Ysgrig opened his mouth to say no, but he looked back over at Sarila at the other table with Marcurio, silently asking her for permission. She gave a nod of approval, and Ysgrig shrugged. "Alright, but don't drink too much. Just a little sip and that's it." He told her, handing her the bottle.

Lyvette took a small swig of the wine and downed it, coughing violently after the liquid traveled down her throat. She wiped her mouth on her sleeve, every adult in the proximity laughing at the little girl. "Her first drink." Caehir grinned, chuckling with Reea'th. "Ah, yes. I can remember my first drink. It was awful." Reea'th laughed.

Sarila took a glance over at Marcurio and caught him staring at her. Marcurio gasped in surprise and looked away, blushing, though Sarila could make out a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. She held back a smirk, standing up.

"It's getting sort of late. Goodnight, everyone. Marcurio and I are going to bed." Sarila gave a subtle grin, one that Marcurio noticed. Marcurio quickly hopped up from his chair and walked downstairs to their room alongside Sarila. "'Marcurio and I are going to bed.' Oh, I'll bet you are." Caehir murmured. Ysgrig spat out his wine, having overheard Caehir, and laughed uncontrollably. Reea'th, who had also heard, gave a few modest chuckles alongside Caehir.

Lyvette blinked. "What's so funny? What are they doing? They're only going to sleep." The child confusedly asked. "You'll find out when you're older, Lyvette. Let's leave it at that." Ysgrig smiled, taking another swig of wine.

As soon as they entered the room, Sarila locked the door, and the two removed their clothes quicker than a bride's nightie. "What's this about, Sarila?" Marcurio asked, laying down on the bed. "What do you mean?" She asked, pulling her breast band over her head. "Well...this just seems sort of sudden."

"Complaining?" She smirked. Marcurio blinked in surprise. "Oh, goodness, no! I'm just surprised, is all." "I just feel like we haven't had much..." Sarila climbed onto the bed with him, crawling towards him like a sabre cat stalking its prey. "...alone time." She gave a sultry grin, Marcurio's breath catching in his throat, and he returned her grin.

"Well, would you count the other night?" He asked. "No." She quickly replied, caressing his chiseled chest with her fingers. "We couldn't take the time to really...feel each other. At least, not with Lyvette five feet away." She explained.

Marcurio swallowed, his member hardening with every move Sarila made closer to him. "But now it's just us, my love. It's just us, and we can do...whatever we want." She stroked his bearded chin, letting the bristles of his facial hair pleasantly brushing against her fingers. "Not quite." He murmured, leaving Sarila confused.

A shining spiral of blue lights appeared in Marcurio's hands. He pressed his hands to his chest, the blue light spreading through his body before disappearing. "What is that?" She asked. Marcurio mouthed something she couldn't hear. "What? I can't hear you." Marcurio's mouth formed an 'O' and he pressed his hands to Sarila's chest, the same blue magic entering her. "Can you hear me now?" He asked. Sarila nodded. "It's a muffle spell. No one can hear us except...well, us." He gave a seductive smile. "It's lucky I was taught this spell. We're certainly going to need it."

Sarila giggled, and the two pulled each other in for a warm embrace. Marcurio closed his eyes, his lips slanting over Sarila's pink, plump ones. He nibbled on her lower lip, something he knew she enjoyed. Sure enough, he got the exact reaction he wanted. Sarila gave a soft moan in response, but quickly blocked Marcurio's tongue from entering her mouth. Marcurio pulled away, a fire burning in his eyes. "Is that a challenge?" Sarila smirked back at him. "I suppose you could call it that."

That was all Marcurio needed. He pushed her onto her back, and claimed her lips once more, only this time, he had slipped his tongue past her lips before she knew what hit her. Sarila moaned, her breath being taken away as Marcurio ravaged her. Her fingers embedded themselves in his raven hair as his tongue shot in and out of her mouth.

Marcurio slowly eased up on his attack on her mouth and transitioned into kissing her neck, collarbone, and eventually her breasts. He cupped her right breast in his hand, kissing the area around her erecting nipple. He trailed his tongue around her pebbled peak, growing more and more aroused with every sound of pleasure that his lover elicited.

Marcurio lifted her up by her legs and began kissing her womanhood. Sarila gasped and grasped the bedsheets as she let out a languid moan. Encouraged by her reaction, he pushed his tongue into her warmth, swirling it around inside her. "Ahhh, Marcurio!" She cried. He briefly looked up with a grin, lust lacing his smile. "I told you we'd need the muffle spell." He told her, stroking her clit. "Well, you're the wizard here, love." She replied, gritting her teeth as she held back another moan. "Believe me, this isn't nearly as loud as it's going to get." He smugly replied, delving into her loins again. Without hesitation, he plunged his tongue into her once more. "Nngh! Marcurio, ahhhhh!"

Marcurio didn't stop, rubbing and teasing her clit as he pleased her with his masterful tongue. Sarila cried out as she reached her peak, the combined pleasures sending her over the edge. Marcurio lapped up her liquids appreciatively and placed a quick kiss in the valley of her breasts. He positioned himself over Sarila, who was still recovering from her climax. "Are you ready, my love?" Sarila nodded. Marcurio gathered up some of the wetness from Sarila's loins and rubbed it on his member. He grasped himself firmly and guided himself towards her entrance, slowly, pushing in.

Sarila immediately cried out in pleasure as he slipped his entire length in. Marcurio closed his eyes lightly and exhaled, Sarila tightened around him. "Gods above, Sarila..." He murmured. He began to thrust in and out, unable to resist the intense pleasure. It felt like his manhood was on fire, he thought, though instead of burning pain, he felt pure bliss.

Sarila, able to see clearly now, grasped his forearms and pushed him off her. Marcurio was surprised, but he soon felt the sensation of Sarila's most intimate of places when she climbed on top of him and eased onto his girth.

She closed her eyes and let out a breathy moan before bouncing up and down on his member. "You're..." She gasped as he hit the perfect spot. "You're so hard, Marcurio." She rasped, sliding up and down. "Well, whose fault is that?" He smirked. "Mine, I suppose." "Then consider this your punishment." He replied, reaching up to play with her breasts.

Sarila playfully smacked his hands away. Marcurio looked up into her violet eyes for an explanation. "I think you'll find that I don't take punishment all that seriously." She purred, sliding up and down on his girth. Just as she was sliding down, Marcurio bucked his hips upward. Their combined movements slammed Sarila onto Marcurio's member twice as hard, and the Nord woman screamed, a second climax overtaking her body.

"And I think you'll find that I don't take rebelliousness all that seriously." Marcurio growled, thrusting upward. Sarila kept bouncing up and down, moaning as she burred her face into his shoulder. Marcurio closed his eyes, not slowing his movements. He could tell he was close, but he wanted to last as long as he could. Though Sarila wasn't making it easy for him with her beautifully lilting moans and tight, velvety womanhood, he wanted to last long for her.

Sarila's cries grew louder and more absorbed, and Marcurio knew she was coming again. Unable to hold back, he gave a shuddery groan, starting to climax. "Oh, Sarila. I'm...nnngh...I'm going to cum!"

Sarila was at the peak of her climax, the pleasing sensations coursing through her veins, and soon enough, she could feel Marcurio's thick, hot cum shooting into her, which added to the euphoria. She gave a few more bounces as the two rode out their climaxes before stopping altogether.

She pressed her lips against Marcurio's, and the two shared a brief, romantic kiss. Marcurio grasped Sarila's hips and pulled her off of his manhood, his seed spilling out from her warmth and onto the bedsheets. The two pulled the covers over their bodies, holding each other close as their sleepiness set in. "I love you." "I love you, too."


	86. Sightless Pit

"When will we get our next orders?" Caehir asked Ysgrig the next morning as the group ate their breakfast. Ysgrig shrugged. "There's no telling. Galmar Stone-Fist is a busy man, and Ulfric is even busier, what with the task of ruling over the city of Windhelm while strategizing for war."

As the rest of her friends talked, Sarila snuck downstairs to grab a bottle of mead. She paid the bartender, Elda Early-Dawn, and downed her mead almost immediately. "Say, what's new around town?" She asked, Elda taking her empty bottle of mead. "Haven't you heard? The whole city's abuzz; the Thieves Guild just got a foothold in Windhelm on account of someone named Valelia Sharp-Sun. I'd watch my purse if I were you."

Sarila nodded. She smiled internally; she was proud of Valelia. She was the newest member of the Guild, yet she'd already done so much. "Do you think she's still in town?" Sarila asked. "Could be. You'd have to check with the—" Elda turned to the door as it opened.

"Well, speak of the devil!"

"Aye! Hello, Sarila! How're ye faring out here in Windhelm?" Valie smiled, sitting on the barstool next to Sarila. "I'm doing quite well, Valie. How are you?" "I'm feeling wonderful, Sarila. Business is booming, as I'm sure you've heard." Valelia informed her, brushing her auburn locks from her face. "How's yer brother?" She asked.

Sarila's smile faded. "I…I don't know how to answer that." She gave a sad smile with a shrug. Valelia's face grew worried. "Why? Has something happened?" Sarila nodded somberly. "His lover…well, his wife, I should say…she had their baby finally, but…she didn't live for very long afterwards. She…lost too much blood."

"Oh, Gods above. I'm so sorry. Was the baby alright, at least?" Sarila nodded and smiled. "Yes. Oh, Valie. You should have seen him. He's just the most beautiful thing." Sarila gushed, and Valie soon joined her. "What did the little guy look like? What's his name?" She asked, her smile growing. "He has beautiful, emerald green eyes just like Ysgrig, lightly tanned skin, and the chubbiest cheeks you've ever seen!" Sarila giggled, Valie squealing with laughter.

Sarila thought back to the small, modest wedding they'd held for Ysgrig and Chalvia in the Home. Chalvia was six months pregnant at that time, and she had told her that she felt awkward. "I don't really want to be remembered as the bride who was as fat as a horker." Chalvia had jokingly told Sarila. "But I've dreamed of this day for so long, and it's finally here."

"I've always wanted to have a baby, but Skyrim is so dangerous nowadays, especially with the war and the dragons." Sarila told her. Valelia's face grew troubled. "Not just Skyrim. There have been dragon attacks all over Tamriel. I feel like I'm not doing my part in protecting everyone." Valie sighed. "Valelia Sharp-Sun, listen to me. You're the Dragonborn. That's a great honor, but a great responsibility. No one's going to rush you. I can only imagine how stressful it is knowing what you have to do, but you need to prepare yourself and remain safe, because if you overwork yourself, or, Gods forbid, _die,_ the dragons will kill us all." Sarila explained, putting a hand of reassurance on the redhead's shoulder.

"Yer right, Sarila. I know that I'm strong, but I'm not nearly strong enough to do all this, at least, not alone anyway. I'm scared, Sarila. Ye know that? I'm scared, and I'm not ashamed to admit it." She confessed, fiddling with her braided locks. "It's alright to be scared, Valie. I was scared eight months ago, but now I'm stronger. I'm still scared of things like dragons, death of loved ones, and death of myself, but I still push myself. We just have to hold our heads up and brave the things that come our way, and if we have to take a fall, make a shot, or dive into danger, then so be it, but we can't just let ourselves drown in worries. We have to give ourselves up to our fears so our other half can live through it, but also overcome them at the same time."

"My parents tried to keep me in the dark as a child, but I knew how hard the world really is. I always promised myself I'd give it my best shot." Valelia replied. "Thanks, Sarila. Yer always there for me when I need ye." Valie got up, pulling Sarila in for a hug. The two broke their friendly embrace, and Valie handed over a few Septims for a bottle of wine. Elda Early-Dawn nodded and handed Valelia the bottle. "I'm heading back to the Flagon. I'll be there if ye ever need me." Valie informed her friend as she headed for the door. She stopped when her hand was on the doorknob. "There's a place just southeast of Winterhold I was thinking of exploring. Supposed to be full o' gold, but I've been a bit busy to check the place out. If yer ever looking for adventure, try heading off to the Sightless Pit." Valelia suggested.

"The Sightless Pit?" "Yep! Supposed to have a Falmer settlement of some kind beneath it. I'd advise you to keep on yer toes, though. It's not called the Sightless Pit for nothing." Valelia warned. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Valie. Stay safe." Sarila waved with a smile. "You too, Sarila. I'll see you again soon."


	87. What Have I Done

"So we're really going off into some Falmer Hive? Are you sure this is a good idea?" Reea'th questioned, all eyes of the group on Sarila. Sarila nodded. "We're not going to be receiving our next orders for a while, and we need to keep ourselves sharp. Besides, there's supposed to be gold down there, and we need to be able to keep paying rent here. Who's in?" Sarila asked, eyeing everyone in the group.

Lyvette was the first to raise her hand, Marcurio and Ysgrig following soon after. Caehir was next, and Reea'th simply shrugged. "Sure, I suppose there's safety in numbers, after all." He raised his scaly hand a moment later. "So we're all in agreement?" Everyone nodded. "Good. When should we leave?"

"There's no time like the present." Ysgrig announced. "Is everyone alright with that?" He asked. Everyone nodded once more. "Alright, everyone. Pack your things; we're going on an adventure." Sarila told them.

Once everyone was packed, they ate their lunch and headed out of the city. They traveled along the path. The cold of Eastmarch bit and pricked at their skin, but they ignored it and remained determined to reaching their destination.

Sarila couldn't help but think of Mattha and Qattindra. They had died in Windhelm, and that's where they were buried. Her mind slowly drifted to the thought of Mattha and Omir's rivalry, and the question of why they had disliked each other so much. "Ysgrig?" Sarila spoke up. "What is it, sis?" He asked his twin. "Why did Omir and Mattha hate each other?" She asked. Ysgrig gave a sigh, and Caehir and Reea'th exchanged awkward glances. "Omir…did something he wasn't proud of." "Which is…?"

Another sigh came from Ysgrig, and he mumbled something under his breath. "Well…we had found Omir hiding in a hollowed out log. He was particularly jumpy, and he attacked us when we found him. He nearly clawed Caehir's face off, but we managed to convince him that we didn't want to hurt him." He explained. "We had decided to leave the shack we lived in when we took Omir in. It was far too small for just four people. We traveled the area for a long time until we found the Home." Caehir smiled, reminiscing. "We fell in love with the place immediately and cleared out the frostbite spiders that had taken over the place. We found a forgery in one of the inner rooms, and Omir immediately claimed it as his own. He started to forge up all the weapons you could imagine. That was when he made this for me." Ysgrig gestured to his mace in his sheath.

Sarila smiled at the thought of a teenaged Omir surprising his friends with his smithing talents. "Then what happened?" She asked.

 _A fifteen year old Ysgrig warmed his hands by the fire of Omir's forge. "Dinner should be ready soon. We're having apple cabbage stew!" Chalvia announced. "Apple cabbage stew? Oh, boy! My favorite!" Caehir, who was sitting next to Ysgrig, exclaimed. "How's the new sword coming, Omir?" Ysgrig asked. Omir could barely hear Ysgrig over the hammer smashing against his new sword as he tempered the blade. "What?" "How's the new sword coming along?" Ysgrig repeated._

 _Omir took the blade off the metal workbench and wiped sweat from his fur. "It should be done. It is slightly heavy, but this one believes it will be very powerful." He informed Ysgrig, baring his teeth with a smile._

 _"Mother? What is this place?" A feminine Dunmer voice asked curiously. The three young men froze. "I don't know, Mattha. Telsfar, why don't you clear the place out, see if there's anything worth grabbing? I'll keep an eye on the girls." "No, be wary. I heard something a moment ago" The fellow, Telsfar, told his wife. Ysgrig could hear the unsheathing of a blade. He gulped, but felt relieved knowing that they were safe for the time being, at least._

 _He soon panicked. "Oh, no. Chalvia's in the kitchen! She doesn't know they're there!" He hissed quietly. Caehir looked into Ysgrig's emerald eyes with fear, but Omir held the blade close to him. "It is likely Chalvia has heard them. She is most likely safe."_

 _Immediately after the words left his mouth, a shrill scream was heard from the direction of the kitchen, followed by the clanking of pots and pans as they clattered to the floor. Rapid footsteps were heard in the hall. "We're coming, Chalvia!" Omir cried, busting the door open, sword in hand. Caehir and Ysgrig followed Omir out into the hallway just in time to see him pierce the grown Dunmer woman's heart with his blade. "MOM!" "ANISLORA!" The male Dunmer cried. "Leave us alone! Leave our friend be!" Omir shouted, hissing fiercely afterwards. "You murdered my wife! I'll make a fine rug out of you, cat!" The man soon gasped as his throat was ripped out by Omir's sharp claws. "DAD!" Another shrill scream rang out through the Home._

 _"Dad! Dad! DADDY!" Everyone turned to the two teenage girls who were backing up into the corner. One was a Nord with long, brown hair and blue eyes. She was holding the Dunmer girl close, her hand pressed over her mouth. The two girls were shrieking and crying, rivers of tears streaming down their cheeks. Omir hissed and bounded towards them. "NO, STOP!"_

 _Everyone turned to Chalvia, whose eyes were tearing up. "They…they didn't hurt me, they just startled me!" She sobbed, looking over at the innocent Dunmer couple Omir had just murdered. Ysgrig watched in horror and sadness as the fires of rage in Omir's eyes were extinguished, and he slowly walked towards the pair of traumatized girls. "I…I am…this one is…sorr—" "LEAVE US ALONE!" The Dunmer girl shouted, bursting into tears once more. The Nord girl wiped tears from her own eyes. "P-Please don't hurt us. We…we were just looking for a place to stay the night." She hiccupped, looking at the floor. Ysgrig walked up to Chalvia. "Why don't you talk to them? They might feel more comfortable with another girl." He suggested, and the Redguard woman nodded._

 _"Easy, easy. It's alright. What are your names?" Chalvia gently asked, calmly approaching the girls in the corner. "I-I'm Qattindra. This is Mattha." She pointed at the girl in her arms. "That's Telsfar." She pointed at the male Dunmer's body. "And that's Anislora." She pointed at the female Dunmer. "They were Mattha's parents. They took me in when my parents died in a bandit attack." Qattindra explained, her voice slowly becoming clearer as she slowly stopped crying. Mattha, however, was an emotional wreck. She sobbed and cried into Qattindra's shoulder as the Nord rubbed her back soothingly. The hall of the Home was silent for a moment, save the anguished, heartwrenching sobs of Mattha Mavothan as she wept for her parents._

 _Chalvia sighed, walking back towards the kitchen. "You should come get some dinner. You can…you can stay here if you like. It's no trouble." She assured the girls, heading into the kitchen._

 _Later on that night, Ysgrig and Caehir had taken the bodies of the Dunmer and buried them on a lovely spot on the hill a short walk away from the Home. They both placed mountain flowers on the graves, bowed their heads in respect, and headed back to the Home._

 _Omir lay in his bed that night, guilt evident in his mind. He sighed, looking at the remnants of the blood in his claws. He jumped when there was a sudden knock at the door. "Come in." He glumly called. Ysgrig and Chalvia opened the door, quietly walking into the room. "We know it was an accident, Omir." Chalvia told the guilty Khajiit. "But you need to make it right with Mattha."_

 _What seemed like five seconds later, Omir found himself knocking on the door to Mattha's room, the Dunmer's faint sobs echoing from behind the door. "What?" She asked, wiping her eyes. Omir walked into the room, his feet shuffling against the floor. "What do you want?" Mattha spat, not facing the Khajiit. "This one is here to apologize." He awkwardly began. "I... thought your parents were hurting our friend. I did not know you were just looking for a place to stay." "So you KILLED them?" Mattha roared, tears dripping off her face. "I overreacted. This one is sorry. Very sorry." Omir hung his head in shame. Mattha sniffled. "While I appreciate you coming to apologize, my parents are DEAD, and they're not coming back." She murmured._

 _Omir sighed. "This one finds it hard to live with the guilt." He told her. "Well. Thanks for coming in here, then." She bitterly snapped. Omir growled. "It is no trouble." He hissed, starting to turn around to walk away._

 _Mattha suddenly grabbed his wrists and smashed her lips to his, closing her eyes tight. Omir was startled, and all he could do was stare at the Dunmer in shock. She pulled away a moment later and spat, wiping fur off her lips. "Hairball." She murmured, laying back on her bed. "I hate you, Omir." "I hate you too, Mattha." He walked out of the room and closed the door behind him._

Ysgrig finished his story, and Sarila was howling with laughter. "What? What's so funny?" Ysgrig asked with a smirk at his sister. "Mattha _kissed_ Omir?" She asked, almost not believing it. Several of the other group members quietly chuckled to themselves. "How did you know?" Sarila asked him. Ysgrig chuckled sheepishly. "He didn't close the door behind him." He replied, everyone resuming their laughter.

Three hours later, they had made it to the Sightless Pit. "No wonder they call it the Sightless Pit. I can't see the bottom of it!" Caehir commented. "There's a bottom to every pit. We just have to carefully make our way down." Ysgrig informed the group. "Who's going first?" He asked. Everyone was silent. "I'll go first!" Lyvette squeaked excitedly. "Are you sure that's a good idea, Lyvette? I love you so much, but…you're just so clumsy sometimes." Sarila sheepishly told her daughter. Lyvette grew indignant. "But I'm the lightest one! I'm less likely to cause a cave-in." She reasoned.

"Wow. I suppose you're right, Lyvette. I'd never thought of that." Sarila dumbly stated. "Alright. Lyvette's going first, I'm going second, then Caehir. Who's coming after him?" Marcurio raised his hand. "I'm the next lightest." He told his lover. "Alright, then. Who next?" She looked at Reea'th and Ysgrig. "It doesn't matter who. Ysgrig and I weigh about the same." Reea'th informed her. "I'll go." Ysgrig volunteered.

"Okay, everyone. We've got a plan. Be careful." Sarila warned. Lyvette gently stepped onto the nearest ledge she could find. When she stepped down, Sarila stepped on the ledge Lyvette had previously been on, and the rest of the group followed suit.

Ysgrig stepped down onto a watery ledge, his foot slipping beneath him. "Woah!" He exclaimed, losing balance. "Waa-AAAAAAH!" He yelled, plummeting into the pit, his arm hitting Marcurio's leg as he went down. "Ysgrig!" Sarila cried. Marcurio lost balance after being startled by Ysgrig's arm hitting his leg, and he too fell into the pit, bringing Caehir, Sarila, and Lyvette with him, everyone screaming as they fell.

Reea'th stood up on the ledge, his eyes wide with shock after witnessing his entire group fall into the pit. "Don't worry, everyone! I'm coming!" Reea'th called, leaping off the ledge. "WHAT HAVE I DONE?!" He yelled, realizing that he'd just risked his own life as he began the dangerous descent into the Sightless Pit. 


	88. All Fall Down

"Reea'th, wake up!"

"Unngh…"

"Wait."

"He's not moving anymore. Is he still alive?"

Reea'th gasped, jumping up when water was splashed on his face. "See? He's fine." Marcurio announced. "You alright, Reea'th? You bumped your head pretty hard when you reached the bottom of the cave." Ysgrig queried.

Reea'th got up, noting that the water had broken his, and everyone else's, fall. He put a hand to his head, suddenly feeling the pain kick in. "Ugh. I'm fine. My head is pounding, though. I could use a nap when we get back to Candlehearth Hall, that's for sure." He shook the pain off. "Is everyone else alright?" Everyone else nodded. "Alright, then. I really thought one of us was going to die from falling." He exhaled in relief.

"Does anyone see a way out of here?" Caehir asked. Everyone looked around. "Could we try climbing back up?" Sarila pointed up at the hole they had fallen into. "No. It's too steep." Ysgrig dismissed the idea. "If we go deeper into the cave, we might find another way out. For now, let's just get going. This place is cold." Caehir shivered.

They all came to a silent agreement and walked deeper into the icy cave. Lyvette's curious eyes came to rest on a family of glowing mushrooms growing on one of the rocks. She giggled and poked at one of the glowing curiosities before running off to catch up with everyone else.

Ysgrig, who was ahead of everyone else, stopped walking for a moment, but continued a moment later. "There's a campfire and a few bedrolls up ahead, but the place is otherwise empty." He told his friends. "There's also a slope up ahead. It doesn't look too slippery, but be careful. We don't need anymore accidents." Ysgrig warned.

One by one, the group treaded carefully onto the slope, the ice crunching beneath their feet. Sarila shuddered; the stinging cold and the eerie sounds of icy gusts echoing throughout the cave gave her the chills.

The group suddenly huddled around something, and Sarila stood over them, looking at the unidentified object. A bandit lay on the icy rock, dead with an arrow sticking out of his forehead, frozen blood coating the corpse's face and hair. Ysgrig pulled the arrow out of the man's head, looking closely at it. "This is a Falmer arrow. It's what…" The auburn-haired man trailed off, closing his eyes sorrowfully. "It's what killed Kharjo. Everyone, stay alert. The Falmer could be nearby." They continued on, overstepping another bandit who had met the same fate as the first. "Caehir, do you have your bow with you?" Sarila asked. Caehir pointed to the bow on his back. "Never leave home without it." He grinned. "Good, because with all the Falmer around, I have a feeling we're going to need it."

Lyvette was in paradise. The cave looked so beautiful. The ice twinkled and glimmered, reflecting the auras that the gorgeous glowing mushrooms emitted. "Sarila, look at the pretty mushrooms! They were back where we came in, too. Aren't they so pretty?" She asked in awe. Sarila giggled, turning back to look at the glowing mushrooms as she walked. "They certainly are, Lyvette!"

 _Clink._

"Look out, Sarila!" Reea'th shouted.

Marcurio grabbed Sarila by the arm, pulling her towards him as three large blades thrust forward. She stumbled into his chest, his arms wrapped around her. "You stepped on a pressure plate. Be careful, Sarila." Marcurio lovingly warned her, and Sarila nodded. Marcurio released her from his arms. "Just remember; I expect a proper thank you later." He whispered with a smirk. She gave a grin, and the two sped up to catch with the group.

They entered a hall of a collapsed building. The building was so collapsed that what was originally the floor had become the wall. There was a sudden drop in the hall, and Ysgrig peered over it. "Alright, there's a nice, reachable ledge down there. Be careful, everyone." He told them, jumping down onto the ledge.

 _Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud._

Everyone made it safely onto the ledge, hopping onto each ledge that came below the next. Before long, they had safely made it to the bottom. They each took one final leap onto a pipe before safely landing on one of the ramps of the Falmer temple. "Alright, maybe this place isn't so safe after all. There's a lot of steep climbs, a lot of drops, a lot of jumps…what if one of us falls and gets hurt?" Caehir asked, concerned. "Caehir is right. Maybe coming here was a bad idea after all." Sarila added, walking down the ramp until she reached a platform.

"Let's just get out of here as quickly as possible. This place isn't safe." Marcurio stated, looking down at the drop below the platform. "Let's just regroup and calm down. This platform is safe, and we're all tense. We can't think clearly or find a way out if we're tense and jumpy." Ysgrig reasoned. Everyone nodded, flooding onto the platform.

"Aww…do we have to go?" Lyvette whined. Sarila nodded. "Yes. It's too dangerous here." "But it's soooooo beautiful! See, my dolly likes it too!" She pulled her doll from her chestplate, pretending to make the doll dance. She giggled, looking around the beautiful cave of mysteries with her doll. "My head feels a little better, but…goodness, it hurts!" Reea'th groaned, placing a scaly hand to his head again. "Does anyone have a potion for Reea'th?" Ysgrig inquired, his eyes sweeping over the group. "I might have something. Let me check." Marcurio informed him, rustling through his satchel.

Lyvette was playing with her doll, not paying attention to the adults. She suddenly looked up when she heard an all too familiar growl. A Falmer was coming up the ramp to the platform, snarling with rage.

Lyvette gave a terrified squeak, remembering seeing Kharjo laying in agony on the ground, an arrow piercing his eye as he slowly and painfully bled to death. She remembered seeing the bandits in the previous cave with Falmer arrows sticking out of their broken skulls.

The Falmer heard Lyvette squeal and slowly stalked towards the girl, the rest of the group oblivious to its presence. "Sarila!" Lyvette cried, backing away from the Falmer. "What're you doing, silly girl?" Sarila giggled, but soon saw the Falmer creeping towards Lyvette. The Falmer took a swing at Lyvette with its axe, and the little girl jumped back to evade the attack, only to fall off the platform, screaming with terror as she fell, catching the attention of the group. A loud thud shook the cave. Sarila screamed, and Ysgrig quickly sliced into the Falmer's skull with his mace, and the abomination fell to the ground, dead.

Sarila rushed over to the edge of the platform, peering down to see if she could spot Lyvette, the rest of the group joining her.

Lyvette lay on the ground, wailing and crying. A puddle of blood slowly formed on the ground around Lyvette, her legs mangled with bone sticking out. "By the Gods. This can't be happening. This can't be happening." Ysgrig murmured over and over. The clicking of the joints of chaurus rang out through the cave. A pack of the chaurus slowly scuttled over to Lyvette, who lay there in pain, trying to get away. "No! Aaaa-aaaah! Help me!" Lyvette sobbed, helplessly flailing her arms at the monsters as they advanced on her.

Sarila snatched Caehir's bow, quickly nocking an arrow. "Hold on, baby girl! I'll help you!" Sarila called out, releasing the arrow into a chaurus. Marcurio looked over at Ysgrig with horror in his eyes as if to ask a question. Ysgrig somberly shook his head. "Sarila, she's—" "SHE'S FINE! LYVETTE, YOU'RE GOING TO BE FINE, I PROMISE!" Sarila screamed, another arrow flying into a chaurus.

Sarila couldn't shoot the chaurus quick enough, and they quickly bit into Lyvette's legs, quickly ripping into the little girl's arms and sternum. Lyvette screamed in agony as she watched the chaurus devour her, crimson blood shooting out of her wounds. "SARILA!" She screamed.

"LYVETTE, HOLD ON!"

"Sarila, she's suffering!"

"Do something, Sarila!"

Sarila released another arrow into a chaurus, tears streaming down her face. She grabbed another one of Caehir's arrows and nocked it perfectly into the bowstring. She raised the bow and took aim, pointing the arrow directly at Lyvette's head. "I'm…s…s…sorry!" Sarila sobbed, her hands trembling against the bow.

The last thing Sarila could remember was Lyvette looking up at her with her big, trusting, blue eyes as she released the arrow into the little girl's skull, the chaurus swarming her body.

 _Thud._

"She passed out!" Marcurio yelled, pulling Sarila away from the ledge. He lifted her into his arms, tears in his eyes. "We need to get out of here _now._ " He ordered loudly over the sounds of the chaurus feasting on what remained of the wonderful little girl they knew as Lyvette.


	89. Paying Respects

Marcurio set the unconscious Sarila down on the bed, pulling the covers over her form. Reea'th claimed the other bed as his own and lay down, sighing as he put a hand to his aching head. Caehir closed the door to the cabin behind him. "Gods, what a horrible day." He sighed.

The chestnut-haired Bosmer looked over at Ysgrig, who held the half-eaten remains of Lyvette in his arms. "What are we going to do with her?" Caehir asked, sadness in his eyes. Ysgrig closed his eyes, exhaling deeply. "We're going to find a place for her. Sarila would want it this way." He frowned, remnants of glistening tears in his eyes as he looked down at the deceased little girl.

They were lucky, he thought, to be able to draw the chaurus away from the girl's corpse and snatch her up to be properly buried. They had barely escaped the ruins alive, and there wasn't a single person in the group who wasn't tense.

Ysgrig looked over at his unconscious sister. "How's she doing?" He asked Marcurio, who somberly brushed a strand of golden hair from the woman's face. "She's still out cold. The shock must have been too much for her to handle."

"Lyvette." Ysgrig sighed, a tear rolling down his cheek as he looked back down at the girl in his arms. "You didn't deserve to die like this. You were so young, so innocent. I…I'm so sorry." He closed his eyes, turning his head away as the tear dribbled off his chin onto Lyvette's face, or at least, what was left of it.

Both of the girl's beautiful blue eyes were gone, and both her cheeks had been fully bitten off. Her neck had a gaping hole in it, and everything below there was all bones.

"I found this." Caehir walked over to Ysgrig, a rusty shovel in his hands. "I'll take care of it." Ysgrig bitterly assured him. Caehir shook his head. "You shouldn't have to bury her by yourself, but if you really want to, go ahead. I'll keep an eye on Sarila and Reea'th." Ysgrig nodded, carefully slinging Lyvette's remains over his shoulder as he took the shovel with his right hand.

As soon as Ysgrig walked out the door, Reea'th spoke up. "She dropped this." Reea'th announced weakly, pulling Lyvette's doll out of his pocket. "When she fell, she let go of this, and it landed on the platform." He continued, handing the doll to Marcurio as he walked over. Marcurio took the little doll and tucked it in his satchel. "Sarila should decide what to do with it."

Ysgrig had walked a few feet away from the cabin, stopping when he reached a beautiful evergreen tree. He gently set Lyvette down in a cushion of snow and began to dig a hole before the tree.

 _Crunch. Crunch. Crunch._

He wiped sweat from his forehead when he'd finished digging, planting the shovel in the snow. He picked Lyvette up, gently setting her in what would become her eternal resting place. He stepped back to look at the little girl, a wave of intense sadness washing over him. "Look at the tree, Lyvette. Isn't it pretty?" He smiled slightly, imagining the little girl's reaction to the gorgeous evergreen. "I knew you'd like it. You always made us happy, always showed dedication to learning, and you always stayed by us. Though you weren't biologically related to any of us, you'll always be our family."

A chilling gust of wind blew, the tree's leaves rustling. "We'll miss you, Lyvette." He finished, looking away. He picked up the shovel, filling the grave of the little girl with dirt and snow. When he'd finished, he stepped back. He looked down at the steel sword in his right sheathe. He pulled it out, admiring it in his hands. "Omir gave this sword to me one day many months ago. He wanted me to give it to you when you became strong enough to lift it, or as he so wisely phrased it, 'When the right time comes'. That time is now, Lyvette." He murmured, plunging the sword into the space behind the grave as a makeshift gravestone.

Saying nothing more, he trudged through the snow back into the cabin.

"Look, he's back." The gentle voice of Marcurio announced as Ysgrig entered the cabin, closing the door behind him. He looked over at Marcurio, who was at Sarila's bedside, and noticed that his sister had finally awoken. "Sarila." Ysgrig blankly stated, sorrow in his emerald eyes. "Did you…take care of her?" Sarila asked, tears spilling out onto her cheeks, some of the salty drops sliding into the groove of her scar.

"I did. I picked a spot under a tree. I knew Lyvette would have liked it." He gave a bitter smile, walking over to his sister. The two embraced, tears running down their cheeks. "I'm sorry, Sarila. I'm so sorry." Ysgrig whispered over and over, gently pulling away. Reea'th and Caehir hung their heads in sadness as they watched the twins weep.

Marcurio reached into his satchel and pulled out Lyvette's beloved doll. The sickly sweet smile on the doll's face was almost ironic; everyone else was mourning the fallen girl, but the doll had always kept its happy face. He set it in Sarila's lap. "It's…Lyvette's doll." Sarila looked up at Marcurio, the tears in her violet eyes not stopping. "She dropped it before…" He trailed off. "Lyvette loved this doll. It always made her so happy. It always made _us_ so happy to see her playing with it." Sarila sourly laughed.

"What…do you want to do with it?" Caehir gently asked the weeping woman. She slowly arose from her bed, stretching out her leg muscles. "Where is she buried?" She queried. Ysgrig's fingers intertwined with his twin's, and the two walked out of the cabin.

The sunset gave the snow of northern Skyrim a golden hue, sparkles evident in the icy wonderland. Ysgrig brought Sarila to Lyvette's gravesite. Sarila remained silent, taking a look at Lyvette's smiling doll. She placed the doll before the sword Ysgrig had plunged into the snow. "I love you, Lyvette. We all love you. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. It's all my fault. Rest easy, sweetheart." Sarila choked out, tears once again streaming down her cheeks. She fell to her knees, sobbing, and Ysgrig bowed his head in solemnity as his twin sister wept.


	90. Stay With Me

"Hush now, little one! You don't want to frighten her."

"But I want her to wake up so we can play. It'll be fun!"

"Oh, look! She's waking up."

Sarila rubbed her eyes, expecting to be on her bed. She instead felt the caress of tiny blades of grass on her body. She yawned, standing up. She looked down to see her ebony dagger in her hand, and a revealing, lacy white dress on her body, complete with white heels and stockings. Her golden hair was once again long; as long as it had been before she chopped most of it off. She looked up into the heavenly sky, wondering where she was. "Sarila! Sarila! You're here, too! Let's play tag!" The ghostly voice of Lyvette giggled, running further off into the misty land Sarila found herself in. "Oh!" Sarila gasped, watching Lyvette fade off into the distance. "Can't catch me!"

"Sarila, you're finally awake. Your little girl has been keeping us company." Her mother smiled, pulling Sarila in for a hug. "Oh, mom!" Sarila sobbed, her mother stroking her back. "It's all my fault. She died because I didn't see the Falmer sneaking up on her. She died because _I failed to protect her._ " Sarila emphasized, guilt and regret taking over her voice. "Sarila, it's not your fault. It was an accident; a horrible, horrible accident."

"Hey! Are we even playing?" Lyvette huffed in annoyance as she ran back to Sarila. "Lyvette! I'm so, so, sorry." Sarila choked out, lifting the ebony-haired girl up, squeezing her as tight as she could. "Why? What's wrong?" Lyvette innocently asked.

Sarila set the little girl down, wiping tears from her eyes. "I couldn't keep you safe. I promised that nothing would happen to you." Sarila looked down in shame. Lyvette laughed. "Hey! Don't feel bad. When I fell, my legs got hurt. Then the monsters came and kissed me with their teeth. They were sharp. It hurt really bad. There was blood; so much blood. I can still taste it in my mouth. Then you saved me with your arrow. It made the pain go away."

Another stray tear fell onto Sarila's scarred cheek. "Now I'm here in this place. I'm feeling much better now. Thanks, Sarila!" Lyvette smiled, her big, blue eyes shinier than they had been in life. Sarila turned to her mother. "Mother, what is this place? I've been here before, but you've never told me where I am." Her mother gave a sheepish smile. "I suppose I shouldn't hide the truth from you anymore, Sarilly. This is Sovngarde." "Sovngarde?" Sarila blinked. "Sovngarde is where all the great Nordic warriors go after death. Why is Lyvette here?" She asked, looking at the little girl who stood proudly.

Sarila's mother laughed. "Silly Sarilly, don't you remember? Lyvette was a fierce warrior in life. Even though she was only eight, she'd seen and done more things than any eight year old ever has." Her mother leaned in. "And if I'm not mistaken, she saved your life." She whispered in Sarila's ear with a grin. "Come on, Sarila! Let's go into the meadow. Miss Qattindra told me that a lot of pretty flowers are blooming there!" Lyvette tugged on the woman's arm. "Oh! Qattindra is here too! I'd forgotten." Sarila gave a small smile in remembrance to her friend.

"Mother, where is father?" Sarila asked, brushing Lyvette's hand from her arm, much to the child's annoyance. "He…he…he went to a…test of strength. You know, to test the new arrivals' mettle." Sarila's mother frowned. A loud roar rang out through the dreamlike atmosphere of Sovngarde. "Mother, what was that sound? I've heard it before." Sarila questioned.

She turned to Lyvette when she heard the little girl's breathing become heavy. "Oh…oh no…S…S…Sa…Sarila!" She squeaked, Sarila's mother picking the little girl up in her arms.

"The World-Eater! He's coming! The World-Eater is coming for our souls!" A familiar voice yelled. Sarila quickly turned around, alarmed by the sudden commotion, to see Qattindra running up the hill. "Sarila, you have to go! Sarila has to go!" Her mother informed Lyvette, who reached out for Sarila. "No! Why does she have to go? Sarila, stay here with me!" Lyvette wailed, ghostly tears forming in her eyes. "W-what?" "Stay with me, Sarila! We can be happy here! Stay with me!" Lyvette pleaded, letting out a scream when the World-Eater arrived.

Sarila looked up, fear wracking her body. The World-Eater was none other than the enormous, black dragon she had seen fly over Whiterun all those months ago. The dragon landed before Sarila. "Sarila, you have to go!" Her mother screamed, protectively wrapping her arms around Lyvette as she carried her away. "No! No! Sarila, stay with me!" Lyvette cried, tears rolling down her cheeks.

The dragon stared into Sarila's terrified eyes before opening his scaly mouth to speak. "Malmindok sahlon. You carry the scent of the Dovahkiin, Dragonborn. You must be her fahdon, her friend." The dragon rasped, his voice ancient and booming. Sarila, paralyzed with fear, slowly nodded. "I can sense you are not part of this sovaar, this plane." He narrowed his beady eyes at her. "Return to Skyrim, but know this; you are not to return to Sovngarde until death, and when you do, know that I will be here, and I will be hungry for your soul." He warned. Sarila remained unresponsive, standing still with a demeanor of fear and shame, as if she were a little girl who had been caught taking cookies from the cookie jar.

The World-Eater let out a mighty roar that shook all of Sovngarde. Sarila felt herself being lifted from the ground, the faint cries of Lyvette ringing out below her. "SARILA! Please, come back!" She sobbed as her mother was taken back to the mortal plane.


	91. Apparition

Sarila sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes. She could feel the wetness of tears, and she wiped the salty liquid off on the covers. Marcurio was snuggled up close to her in the tiny bed, Caehir sleeping in the nearby chair while Reea'th slept on the bed he had taken as his own.

Ysgrig, however, was nowhere in sight.

Sarila, now worried about her brother, hopped up out of bed, careful not to awaken Marcurio, who was still slumbering soundly. She crept past the sleeping Caehir and opened the wooden door, cringing as the door gave a creaking cry. She stole a glance at each man, and when she had confirmed that she hadn't awoken them, she gently shut the door behind her.

The wind howled, snow rushing to the icy ground, which had frozen solid. Sarila shivered, looking down at the snow to see where Ysgrig's footprints led to. She followed the stream of footprints before reaching the end, panicking when she realized that the snow had covered them up. "Oh, Gods."

"Sarila?" She turned around to the sound of Ysgrig's voice. "Ysgrig!" She ran over to her twin, pulling him in for a hug. "Oh, well you're certainly over-affectionate today." Ysgrig remarked. "Oh, be quiet. You had me scared to death, slipping out of the house unannounced like that." She released him, lightly punching him on the arm. He rubbed his arm and smirked. "What? Can't a man head out for a bit on his own without his sister getting worried?" He teased as they walked back to the cabin. "At any rate, where were you?" Sarila asked, brushing a layer of snow of her chestplate, though a new layer formed as soon as she did.

"Well, I headed back to Windhelm to ask Galmar Stone-Fist about our upcoming orders. He says we've got nothing planned as of right now, but to remain on call as we could be needed at the drop of a hat." His face grew somber. "Valelia was in town when I went. I told her about…you know. She was absolutely devastated, and wanted me to tell you she was sorry." Sarila nodded, sighing as she remembered Lyvette crying out for her in Sovngarde.

"But," Sarila looked up at Ysgrig. "Valie and I _did_ have something planned for you. We'd been talking about it when we were going to get you back from Mercer Frey. We'd done a bit of digging; she searched through Guild records, I researched maps of Skyrim." Ysgrig rambled. "So?" "So, we've got a surprise for you. You'll never guess what it is." Ysgrig grinned. "Close your eyes and hold out your hand." Sarila nodded, closing her eyes.

Ysgrig took her hand and dropped a small, smooth object in it.

She opened her eyes and gasped.

In her palm was the silver ring given to her by their parents on the last New Life they had ever spent together. "Oh, Ysgrig! You and Valie found this? For _me?"_ She slipped the ring on her right hand's ring finger. She admired the shiny jewelry, the Luna Moth engraving shimmering in the faintest ray of sunlight.

"Where did you find it?" She asked. "It was near the area where our farm used to be." "'Used to be'? Why? What happened to the farm?" She asked, sadness in her eyes. Ysgrig gave a sad smile. "It was completely abandoned. The walls had collapsed, the fences were broken, a tree fell on the roof and caved it in."

Sarila sighed. "Well, thank you both for getting this ring back for me. It means so much to me." She held out her arm, admiring the ring. "It's so pretty! Can I have a ring like that?" Sarila gasped, turning to the source of the voice. Lyvette stood by the door to the cabin, her hair braided up with little mountain flowers stuck through the braids. "Lyvette?"


	92. Off The Deep End

"What are you doing here?" Sarila asked, walking towards Lyvette. "I wanted to come play. Will you play hide and seek with me?" Lyvette batted her eyelashes with a sweet smile. "Of course I will! Who should hide first?"

Ysgrig watched his sister speak to herself, a disturbed look crossing his face. "Sarila? Who are you talking to?" He quizzically questioned. "It's Lyvette! She wants to play hide and seek with me." Sarila answered, a crazed glint in her eyes. "Oh, dear." Ysgrig muttered as Sarila turned back around. "Wha—" Sarila looked around for Lyvette. "I thought I was hiding first. Come out, Lyvette!" She called, the snowstorm picking up. "Sarila, let's just get inside. We'll both get sick if we stay out in this cold for much longer." Ysgrig gently grabbed his sister's arm to pull her into the cabin, but she roughly jerked her arm away from him, a surprised look appearing on Ysgrig's face.

"Over here, Sarila." Sarila turned, her grin reappearing. Lyvette was sitting in the tree over her grave. "I like this tree. Ysgrig picked a good place for me to sleep. I'm tired. So tired. But I don't want to go back to sleep; I want to play!" She giggled, her ebony braids swaying with every move she made. "Find me again. It'll be fun!" Before Sarila could protest, Lyvette had disappeared in the blink of an eye.

Sarila's wild eyes darted around the area at the speed of light, and she shuffled through the snow in search of her adoptive daughter. She soon found her on a flatter area on the hill. "You found me!" She giggled, flailing her arms like a crazy chicken. Sarila laughed, walking over to Lyvette.

A familiar clicking was heard through the raging winds of the snowstorm.

Before Lyvette or Sarila could turn around, a chaurus had crept up on the little girl, sinking its mandibles into where her shoulders and neck connected. Lyvette screamed, standing helplessly as the chaurus ripped chunks of her flesh out, Sarila looking on in shock before she too screamed. Crimson blood spurted from the girl's open wound, and Lyvette pushed the chaurus off her. It scuttled back over, ripping into her sternum.

Sarila gave another loud shriek, tears flooding down her face. She ran over to the chaurus that was attacking Lyvette and tackled it off the poor girl. She wailed, punching the chaurus as hard as she could to avenge her bleeding little girl.

Ysgrig looked on in horror as Sarila threw herself onto the ground and punched the snow, crying and shouting obscenities. The door to the cabin burst open, Caehir and Marcurio dashing out. "What's going on? Why is she screaming?" Marcurio asked with fright, a slight mumble to his voice that indicated he had just been woken up. "She's hallucinating." Ysgrig plainly muttered. "Hallucinating? Hallucinating _what?"_ Caehir inquired, rubbing his eyes.

"She mentioned something about Lyvette wanting to play hide and seek with her." Ysgrig answered, watching Sarila roll around in the snow, sobbing. "That's certainly no game of hide and seek that _I_ would want to play." Marcurio remarked, walking through the snow towards Sarila. "Sarila. Snap out of it." Marcurio ordered. Sarila's crying slightly eased up, though she was sniffling and mumbling incoherently.

"Sarila, you're seeing things. Come inside, please." Marcurio soothingly whispered, stroking her hair. She lifted her face up out of the snow, mumbling something Caehir and Ysgrig couldn't hear. "Yes, there will be food. Come on, love." Marcurio offered her his hand, which she took. The Imperial mage pulled Sarila to her feet, and she sniffled, quietly weeping as she shuffled into the cabin.

Reea'th lay in his bed, wide awake. "Everything okay out there?" He queried with an uncertain demeanor. "Physically, yes. But Sarila has been hallucinating. She's seeing visions of Lyvette." Caehir replied, sitting in the chair by Reea'th's bed. "Damn. And I couldn't do a thing to help in this condition." The Argonian sighed, pursing his lips. He let out a sour chuckle a moment later, prompting Caehir to look back at him. "It's funny. It seems like I've been getting hurt or sick a lot lately. First the Rattles, now the head injury. Funny how life works." He murmured, closing his eyes once more rested his head on the pillow.

"Anyone have any suggestions for what we should try and cook?" Marcurio questioned, his eyes sweeping over the group. "Anyone? Anyone?" Reea'th scoffed. "I would kill for one of Chalvia's specially made apple cabbage stews. My mouth waters at the mere thought of it." He mumbled, rolling over in his bed. Ysgrig closed his eyes and sighed. "That does sound rather tasty at the moment. Do we have what we'd need to cook it?" He asked. Marcurio nodded. "We should. This cabin has some fresh food in the barrels, too." He looked over at Sarila.

"What're you thinking?" Caehir asked, looking over at Sarila, who dazedly mumbled to herself. "I'm worried about her. Worried for the sake of her sanity." Marcurio answered, placing a soothing hand on the brokenhearted woman's shoulder. She gently pulled away, and Marcurio frowned.

"She's lost a lot of people." Ysgrig added, looking down as he crossed his arms. "Yeah. Ma once told me that if you go through a lot and lose a lot, you'll become stronger, but…" He trailed off, looking at his glassy-eyed lover. "It's all starting to pile up on her. Her parents, Ytri, Kharjo, Qattindra, Mattha, Chalvia…now Lyvette." Marcurio solemnly concluded. "We're going to need to look out for her. You and I are her last anchor." Ysgrig told Marcurio, who nodded. "All I know is, if I died…she'd kill me." Marcurio scoffed at his own joke.

Ysgrig, however, couldn't contain himself, and laughed hysterically, much to the dismay of the others. "Oh, wonderful. Now _both_ the twins have lost their minds." Reea'th mumbled. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I don't know why that was so funny. It's just…it's funny because it's true, let's put it that way." Ysgrig chuckled, Marcurio shaking his head with a small smile. The Imperial quickly adopted a serious demeanor. "But let's hope Sarila comes to her senses soon. We'll have a big problem if something's snapped. I don't know what she'd do if she goes further off the deep end, and I don't want to find out."


	93. Heart-To-Heart

"Are you doing alright, sis?" Ysgrig asked, sitting across from Sarila at the small table. "I'm doing about as good as you'd expect." She mumbled, her head down as she slurped up what remained of her apple cabbage stew. It tasted unusual, she thought. Since it wasn't Chalvia's skilled cooking, it just didn't taste the same. It never would.

"You were acting pretty strangely outside." Ysgrig's voice brought her out of her thoughts. "I…I know. I'm sorry, Ysgrig. I'd just been seeing some pretty traumatic things. Lyvette was just…ripped apart. Like she was some kind of chew toy for a crazed dog." She explained, staring into her empty wooden bowl. "It's alright, sis. I sometimes see Chalvia. Sometimes, she reaches out to stroke my cheek. Sometimes, she just stands there with that beautiful smile of hers, but I know it's not real." He told Sarila who nodded as she ran her fingers over the rim of the bowl. "It's just our minds trying to comfort us, but…I suppose sometimes we see only bad things." He finished, wistfully looking over at the dimming fireplace.

"What'll I do, Ysgrig?" He turned back to look at her, helplessness on her face. "I know she was in my care for about a year, but it feels like we've known for decades. It feels like she's haunting me." She mumbled, her saddened violet eyes returning to look at her empty soup bowl. "You just have to tell yourself that you're seeing things. It's just your imagination." Ysgrig instructed. "But what if I can't make the visions go away?" She asked, looking over into the fireplace. "Then you'll just have to think of something positive you remember about Lyvette. What was a happy memory you had with her?" Ysgrig inquired.

Sarila noticed a faint resemblance to Lyvette in the fireplace. She closed her eyes tight and turned her head back to face Ysgrig before opening them once more. "I remember…back when we first met, after I'd saved her from the wolves, she brought me to an apple tree. We had so many apples that I was afraid we'd drown in them." She smiled, fondly thinking back to when she had first encountered the girl.

The twins were quickly greeted with a rush of cold pricking at their skin. The two shivered immediately, looking over at the fireplace. "Fire's out." Ysgrig sighed, rubbing his arms. Sarila looked towards the door. "When do you think Caehir and Marcurio will get back?" She queried, taking one of her ebony daggers from its hilt, examining the blade. "My best guess is that they'll return in about an hour at most. Hopefully the storm has died down a bit. It'd be hard to sleep without the warm crackling of a lit fireplace." Ysgrig smiled, imagining the fire stronger than before.

Sarila looked over Ysgrig's shoulder at Reea'th, who was snoring quietly as he slept in his bed. "He's lucky. The cold doesn't really have much effect on his scales." Sarila commented aloud, Ysgrig turning around briefly to check on Reea'th. "Imagine how hard it must be for Caehir and Marcurio. They don't have the natural tolerance for the cold that we Nords do." He lightly chuckled. "In fact, I can just imagine Marcurio driving Caehir mad with his complaining." Sarila joined him in laughter. "Let's just hope they get back with the supplies and firewood soon. It's getting chilly in here." Sarila shuddered as the cold of the room caressed her.

The two talked for awhile, Sarila's sadness and guilt being pushed into the deepest recesses of her mind. The loss of Lyvette was still fresh in her memory, but she wanted to forget about it for the time being.

Suddenly the door burst open, Caehir and Marcurio tumbling inside. Reea'th yelled in surprise, as he had been woken up by the sudden commotion. Caehir pushed the door closed, giving a pained grunt as he grasped his shoulder. "What's going on?" Sarila asked, her eyes suddenly coming to rest on Caehir's left shoulder.

"By the Nine…"


	94. A Proposal

"What happened?" Reea'th asked, rubbing his eyes as he slowly sat up in bed. "Thalmor, that's what happened!" Marcurio gritted his teeth, pacing back and forth, tension clear on his face. "Yeah, they—URGH—they got me pretty good, but I'm pretty sure I punctured an essential organ on one of them." Caehir gasped, grasping his shoulder.

An elven dagger was firmly embedded in Caehir's left shoulder, blood speckling the blade. "Oh, Caehir." Sarila murmured, getting up from her chair. She walked over to Caehir, looking closely at the dagger planted in his shoulder. "You're not going to take it out, are you?" Caehir uneasily asked. "No, no, certainly not. That would just make you lose even more blood. We're going to need to clean it and bandage it properly."

Sarila turned to her comrades. "Does anyone have any medical experience?" She asked. Reea'th straightened his posture, his back cracking a bit, and he got out of bed. "Sa'etha taught me a few techniques." He told the woman. "She also taught me a bit about cleaning wounds in case she wasn't there to do it." Ysgrig stepped forward, looking at Caehir's shoulder. "Damn. Must've hurt pretty bad, as deep as that dagger is." He grimaced, patting Caehir on the back. "You shouldn't worry too much about it, though. You're going to be fine." He reassured. Caehir winced when he patted too close to his injured shoulder. "Oh. Sorry." Ysgrig sheepishly apologized, retracting his hand.

Caehir had sat down, and Marcurio brought the supplies out of his backpack that the two had got in Windhelm. "I've got some potions here, they might help." He announced. "What've you got?" Ysgrig asked. "Ehh…let's see here. A waterbreathing potion—" "How's that going to help us?" He retorted. "Oh, hush and listen, for goodness sake! Besides, it could very well save your life one day." Marcurio briefly glared at Ysgrig before looking back into his backpack. "Three potions of healing, a potion of cure disease, and—oh! I should give one of these healing potions to Reea'th." Marcurio turned to the Argonian in question, handing him the bottle.

Reea'th smiled and gave a curt nod of thanks. He uncorked the bottle and let the concoction slide down his throat. When he had drank all of its contents, he pulled the bottle away from his scaly mouth and exhaled with relief. "My head feels so much better. It's like magic." He chuckled, placing the empty potion bottle on the hearth. Marcurio set the two healing potion bottles on the table before Caehir. The Bosmer gave a nervous chuckle, looking up at Ysgrig and Reea'th. "Be careful, please." He requested. "We'll be as gentle as possible." Ysgrig reassured, taking the bandages from Marcurio.

Sarila and Marcurio stepped outside, not wanting to watch the procedure. The two stood in silence for awhile, Sarila leaning against the railing. She dangled her arms carelessly, the snowstorm easing up. "Feeling better?" Marcurio broke the silence, walking over to join Sarila. "I suppose so. It's just sort of surreal, I guess." She replied, briefly looking into his eyes. "I'm sorry." Marcurio apologized. "There was nothing any of us could have done. Her legs…they were just…" She trailed off, letting out a small sigh.

The couple jumped in slight surprise when Caehir yelled out in pain. "What exactly happened out there?" Sarila asked. Marcurio went silent at her answer. "There were a few Thalmor soldiers out there. They…" He inhaled deeply. "They were searching. For you."

Sarila wasn't sure whether to be surprised or not. It was no secret that a woman wearing Ytri's inscribed amulet of Talos had been running around. "And they attacked you?" Marcurio nodded. "They're going to kill us all if we don't stop them one day. I look forward to receiving more orders from Galmar, believe it or not." Marcurio grinned. "Me too. With the Elves and the Imperials out of Skyrim for good, we wouldn't need to worry as much." Sarila smiled warmly, gently nudging Marcurio with her arm. He smirked and nudged back. Sarila scoffed and smiled wider, and the two engaged in an all-out nudging war. Eventually, Sarila relented, and Marcurio smiled at his tiny victory.

The door opened about ten minutes later, and Ysgrig stepped out, blood on his hands. "You guys can come back in. The dagger is out, and Caehir's shoulder is cleaned and bandaged. We've cleaned most of the blood up, but be careful when walking by the table." Ysgrig paused, watching the looks of disgust that crossed Sarila and Marcurio's faces. He smiled a moment later. "I'm only fooling. There wasn't that much blood, to be completely honest." He told them as they walked inside.

Not much had gone on that evening. Caehir headed off to bed, Reea'th joining him ten minutes later. The two would occasionally shove each other, mumbling about hogging the bed. Ysgrig had claimed one of the chairs at the table as his own, and he drifted off to sleep within minutes before the roaring fireplace.

Sarila had tucked herself into bed, and Marcurio snuck in with her not even ten seconds after her head hit the pillow. She turned around and smiled at him. "Thank you for going out to get supplies. Especially the firewood." She stole a glance at the nice, warm fire. "It's not a problem, love. When I'm with you, though, I don't need anything to keep me warm. You do a good enough job of that just by being here." He gave her a peck on the cheek as he snuggled up to her.

"And…well, there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about." He started. "Oh? What's that?" She asked, reaching up to caress his cheek. "Someday, when things with the war and the dragons have all settled down, I would…I would like to have a child with you." Sarila's face lit up. "Really? You would?" "I…yeah. Sorry, it's just a bit…well, embarrassing." He blushed, scratching the back of his neck.

"You'd better tone it down, you two." Caehir playfully warned from across the room, rolling back over in his bed. The couple blushed fiercely. "Yeah, sorry! Just speculating a bit." Marcurio apologized. "Whatever you say." Caehir mumbled, and Sarila could hear the smile in his voice. "What do you think?" Marcurio whispered, looking into Sarila's eyes. "I'd love to, Marcurio. But promise me one thing." She smiled. "Of course! Anything, Sarila." Marcurio replied, smiling lovingly at Sarila.

"Promise me that one day, we'll be bound together in matrimony until the Divines take our souls." Marcurio's eyes widened. "Truly? You wish to be married?" He asked, shocked. He grasped his lover's tiny hands in his own. "It's settled, then. As short as life can be in Skyrim, at least we'll have each other."


	95. Speculation Of Life

Sarila had woken up early the next morning, though she had decided not to get up. Everyone else was sound asleep, including Marcurio, who was firmly attached to her side. Her heart went aflutter at the mere presence of him. She was lucky, she thought, to have such a wonderful man by her side.

Her mind had drifted back to the conversation they had the previous night. She had let her mind wander to thoughts of what a child with Marcurio would look like.

 _It sure would be cute._

Sarila smiled, closing her eyes once more. She wanted to lay like that forever, Marcurio pressed into her side comfortably. The fireplace was slightly dim, but the fire still quietly crackled, bringing heat into the small cabin.

She wondered how they had found the cabin. She wondered how they had got out of the Sightless Pit with her unconscious.

She wondered if the Thalmor would find her.

Her thoughts had eventually wandered to the Home. She found herself wondering how the baby was doing. Baby Kyrike was certainly a cute one, she thought. He'd be a big, strong fellow when he was grown. He would maybe even be a warrior.

Deep down, Sarila knew that Kyrike was doing well under Sa'etha and Omir's care. She hoped they would get to return to the Home soon and see the boy. He was barely a week old, but he was beautiful.

She soon grew worried for the boy. _What if he meets the same fate as Lyvette?_ Sarila's heart sped up at the horrifying thought. _No, no, that's crazy…Ysgrig will prepare his son. He'll teach him how to defend himself, teach him to be brave…Kyrike is going to turn out just fine._

Sarila exhaled. _Yes. Kyrike is going to grow up and be strong. He's not going to end up like Lyvette. Ysgrig won't let that happen, and neither will I. I could never live with myself if I let another loved one die._

Maybe, she thought, Omir would even forge the baby a weapon for when he grew up. Maybe he'd even forge one for him when he turns Lyvette's age.

Sarila's thoughts drifted back to the possibility of having her own child with Marcurio eventually. _I won't make the same mistakes I made with Lyvette. I'll expose my child to the harsh reality of the world so they might accept, or even embrace it._

What if, she thought, her child had the same powers as Lyvette? Lyvette had, on multiple occasions, predicted the future through dreams and nightmares. The dragon attack in Helgen, the events of Snow Veil Sanctum, and Ysgrig had even mentioned Lyvette going on about a dream where Mercer had hurt her. _All of those events had happened not long after she dreamt them._

Sarila had done a bit of research, and had discovered three other cases of Lyvette's visions. Idgrod Ravencrone, Jarl of Morthal, was known in her Hold for relying strongly on 'visions of the future granted to her by the Eight' and not her people's wishes. Her daughter, Idgrod the Younger, had also experienced visions, though not nearly as bad as her mother or younger brother, Joric. Joric would often wander off, 'getting lost, but not knowing where he went.' It was also noted that Joric had nightmares similar to Lyvette's, though he was given potions to ease the visions.

Lyvette showed no signs of wandering off or getting lost, but she was, however, unusually clumsy, tripping over nothing in particular at the most inopportune times. One thing remained clear in all four cases; each person saw visions that predicted the outcome of the future.

Sarila almost envied Lyvette, but knew that she was scared to death by the nightmares she had. She briefly wondered why Lyvette, out of all people, had the visions like the Jarl of Morthal's family. She even considered the possibility of Lyvette being the Jarl's long lost daughter, but shook the thoughts away when she remembered Lyvette revealing herself as an orphan.

Nonetheless, Sarila was otherwise convinced that her child, if she ever opted to have one, wouldn't have the powers, visions, or nightmares that Lyvette had experienced. Perhaps, she thought, it was probably best that the child _didn't_ have to experience these unnatural, otherworldly occurences.

Lost in her thoughts, Sarila rolled over and slowly drifted off to sleep, her curiosities never leaving her head.


	96. The Home's Final Members

"I'm not going to let those Thalmor monsters get away. I think I at least owe it to Caehir, since they stabbed him with a dagger." Sarila muttered, tucking her daggers in their sheaths. "Sarila. Going by yourself to face Thalmor soldiers is suicide. At least take someone with you." Ysgrig pleaded. "I'll go with her." Marcurio immediately volunteered, hopping up from his chair at the table. Ysgrig remained silent. "Alright. Marcurio's going with you, but so am I. I at least want to put the Elves in their place after…after what they did to mom and dad." Ysgrig clenched his fists.

"Have you all lost your minds? There were a whole lot of them. Come on, Marcurio! You were with me. You saw it, too!" Caehir exclaimed, crossing his arms. Marcurio sighed and nodded, his ponytail bobbing up and down. "Yeah. There were a lot of them, but, if it makes any difference, they were in groups of three, and they all went their separate ways." He optimistically explained. "It's still a risk, but we'll be here if you need us." Reea'th assured, poking at the tomato slices on his plate.

"Do we still have any potions of healing left?" Marcurio inquired, rooting around in his backpack. Reea'th nodded. "We do. We only used one of them on Caehir during the procedure yesterday. His wound isn't infected, so we also have the potions of cure disease." The Argonian explained, gesturing to the potions on his nightstand. Marcurio nodded, sweeping the potions into his backpack. "Thanks." "No troubles, friend."

Marcurio looked in his backpack a moment later. "Oh, Sarila, come here for a moment." Sarila strolled over to Marcurio, looking in his backpack. "I know Ysgrig said these are…well, pretty much useless, but I want you to have them. Consider it an engagement gift." He winked, smiling warmly at his betrothed. "Oh, Marcurio. You're too sweet. I suppose that means I've got to get you an engagement gift now, too." She laughed. "Nah, we'll work that little dilemma out later." He winked once more, a suggestive smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as Sarila giggled.

The two jumped when Ysgrig cleared his throat. "Are you quite finished?" He asked, waiting patiently by the door. "Yeah, just a moment." Marcurio assured, digging through his backpack. "Open your satchel." He instructed. Sarila opened her leather satchel, and Marcurio placed several items inside, including his waterbreathing potion, a frost resistant potion, and a few lockpicks. "Thank you. These are wonderful presents." Sarila smiled, walking out the door with Marcurio and Ysgrig.

Marcurio rolled his eyes and smiled. "Sarila, have I ever told you that I'm a man of many talents?" He beamed. Sarila giggled. "You may have mentioned it once or twice." "Or a million times." Ysgrig rolled his eyes.

Sarila looked over at the tree Lyvette was buried under. The sword that marked her grave stood perfectly straight in the snow, and Lyvette's doll was left perfectly untouched, save the snow that made a home in her hair. Lyvette sat in the tree branch, catching snowflakes on her tongue as they slowly, gently fell to the ground. Sarila smiled at the little girl's silliness. _Wait a minute._

Sarila screamed, falling forwards into the snow. "Sarila?! What happened?" Ysgrig asked as he and Marcurio helped her up. Sarila wiped the snow off her face and looked back at the tree. Lyvette was no longer on the branch. "I saw Lyvette in that tree." She blankly stated, continuing to walk forward.

Marcurio and Ysgrig exchanged worried glances. "Say…Sarila? Do you want to hear a story?" Ysgrig queried, immediately capturing Sarila's attention. "Like what?" "Well…I don't know. Ask me something." Sarila thought for a few moments. "You never told me how you met Reea'th and Sa'etha. Tell me that story." Sarila grinned. "Oh. That's not much of a story, but alright then."

 _It was only two weeks after Mattha and Qattindra had moved into the Home. Ysgrig and Caehir were teaching Omir how to control his jumpiness to no avail._

 _One stormy night, Chalvia had been tending the garden when she came back into the Home with a basket full of tomatoes and two unknown Argonians following her. Mattha had been reading a book on the couch at that time, and when she saw the Argonians, she thought to question it, but instead resumed to reading her book._

 _Chalvia knocked on the door to Omir's forge where Ysgrig and Caehir were teaching him. "Who is it?" Ysgrig called out. "It's Chalvia. I wanted to tell you something…I found a pair of Argonians outside while I was harvesting the crops. It started to rain, and I invited them in. They look very hungry. Could they stay for awhile?" Chalvia requested, hoping for a positive answer. "Alright. Okay. But we're going to need to meet them first so there aren't anymore incidents." Ysgrig shot a look at Omir, who looked away._

" _Omir isn't…uh…in one of those skittish moods, is he?" Chalvia nervously asked from behind the door. "Of course, not, Chalvia! Omir is one of the nicest fellows I know. That's why he isn't going to anything violent…or not nice. Right?" He asked Omir, who softly growled, but nodded. Caehir gave Ysgrig a reassuring nod, and the trio stepped out into the main hall._

 _The two Argonians sat in the chairs across from the couch Mattha had perched herself on for reading. Chalvia sat next to the Argonians, while Ysgrig, Caehir, and Omir joined Mattha on the couch. Omir realized, much to his dismay, that the only available spot on the couch was next to his Dunmer foe. The two fiercely glared at each other as he sat down. The last to arrive was Qattindra, who had been sleeping soundly. She sat by Chalvia, and for the first time, the residents of the Home had all met._

" _Everyone, I'd like you to meet Sa'etha," Chalvia gestured to the female Argonian in whitish-beige robes. The Argonian smiled and waved. "And Reea'th." The male Argonian in leather armor gave a curt nod. "They're siblings. They've been on their own for a long while, and…well, they've been searching for a place to live." Chalvia smiled reassuringly to the Argonians._

" _I, for one, think it would be a wonderful idea. After all, the more the merrier." Mattha grinned. Omir scoffed. "Who asked you?" Mattha glared. "Don't you even try to get smart with me, cat." Her words stung Omir, but he didn't show it. "You take that back." He hissed, the members of the Home growing slightly worried. "Who says I should?" "Me." "Why would I care what you think?" "This one does not know, but you got quite agitated when I showed attitude." "Why you—" "SHUT UP!" "WHY DON'T YOU?"_

" _Everyone, please calm down!" Caehir shouted when the two got up, fists raised. Omir unsheathed his claws. "Yes, Caehir's right. After all, I certainly don't want to end up like my parents, do I?" Mattha maliciously spat, looking back at the remnants of the bloodstains that had announced their presence on the ground a few weeks back._

 _Mattha then shrieked, grasping her cheek. Everyone gasped. Omir retracted his claws, smirking when tiny droplets of blood trickled down Mattha's face. Mattha, however, was infuriated, and she punched Omir in the face, blood spurting out of his nose, and another loud gasp came from the residents of the Home._

" _ENOUGH!" Ysgrig yelled, catching everyone's attention. "Stop fighting, and I mean it. You both need to control yourselves. Someone's going to get seriously hurt because of you two." Ysgrig sighed, putting a hand to his forehead._

 _Everyone was silent. Suddenly, Sa'etha spoke up. "I'll take a look at them and see what I can do." She announced, everyone turning to her in surprise. "You're a doctor?" Chalvia asked. "That's right. She studied under Metian Septianos." Reea'th confirmed. "Let's get you two cleaned up." Sa'etha ushered the two enemies to the nearest room._

 _Sa'etha had managed to stop the bleeding. She cleaned Mattha's scratch wound. The scratch was rather light, and would heal in the span of a few days. Omir's nose, thankfully, wasn't broken, and the bleeding had mostly stopped. The pain, however, was still evident._

 _Reea'th and Sa'etha had proven to be useful members in the team of the Home. Reea'th had turned out to be an exceptional hunter, and when he partnered up with Caehir and Qattindra, the three of them were unstoppable when hunting for game, large or small. Whenever they or anyone else in the Home got hurt, Sa'etha would fix them up good as new. When the hunting trio returned to the Home with whatever they had caught that day, Chalvia would take it and cook up a storm in the kitchen along with whatever Mattha had grown in the garden. Mattha was not only a gardener; she was a librarian of sorts. She knew exactly where every book in the Home was, who had written each book, and every genre. She had taken it upon herself to memorize the most important passages in the books, and was able to recite them at the drop of a hat._

 _Ysgrig was unanimously chosen as their leader. Everyone looked up to him, and Chalvia and Caehir were his strongest supporters, Chalvia's love for the red-haired Nord growing every day. Whenever important decisions had to be made, Ysgrig was always the person the members of the Home turned towards to decide._

 _The members of the Home were all alike; they were frightened orphans who aimlessly wandered the woods until they banded together to survive. Though most of them were completely unrelated to one another, they all knew each other as family, and promised to look out for each other until the Divines took them._


	97. Concurrence

"What do you think he likes to do for fun?" The first Thalmor soldier asked his comrades as they strolled through the snowy land of Skyrim. "Ulfric? Probably likes to play 'High King of Skyrim.' You know, using his little Windhelm puppets and whatnot." The second soldier replied, the other two chuckling. "Bastard thinks he has all the power in the world. Anyone in their right mind knows that the Aldmeri Dominion holds all the power, wouldn't you agree?" The third one snickered, turning to his companions.

His jaw dropped, his eyes wider than before. His two fellow soldiers lay dead on the ground, massive holes where their hearts were. Three people stepped forward. The biggest of them, a Nord with auburn hair, raised his mace. "They didn't need those hearts."

The third soldier dropped dead, his skull shattered by the fellow's mace.

Ysgrig wiped his glass mace clean of the crimson blood and gore, kicking the Thalmor's bodies as he walked by them, Sarila and Marcurio following. "Where do you think the rest of them are?" Sarila inquired, looking around the snowy forest. "They're bound to be in the forest or on the road. We should stick to the forest in case we need to make a run for it. The trees and shrubbery would provide excellent cover-up." Marcurio explained.

"Marcurio, do you know any ward spells?" Ysgrig asked. "I certainly do. They saved my life yesterday when the Thalmor attacked us." He explained. "What are ward spells?" Sarila questioned. She'd heard of destruction, illusion, even conjuration, but never ward spells. "Wards are a type of restoration spell. When they're cast, they protect the caster from spells cast against them. It's sort of like a shield, but for magic." Marcurio replied. "I suppose you really are the master of the arcane arts." She smirked. Marcurio nodded. "I've studied magic of all sorts. Granted, I don't know every spell there is to know, but I know a great deal about magic."

"Ysgrig, do you know any magic?" Marcurio asked, turning to Ysgrig. Ysgrig shook his head. "No. I'm not a gifted with magic as you, Marcurio." He answered. "I only know a flames spell. I happened to have a spell tome containing the lesson that taught me the spell. I learned it when I was in the forest with Ytri. She told me to light the fire, so I used my flames spell and tossed the tome into the fire as kindling." Sarila replied, fondly thinking back to the last moments she spent with her dear friend, Ytri.

"I still can't believe you and Ytri survived for so long out there. The forests of Skyrim are becoming more and more dangerous these days. There are more bears, wolves, and sabrecats than there used to be, and now the dragons are coming back." Ysgrig sighed, looking up at the grey sky. "I sometimes find myself watching the skies. It feels like a dragon could swoop down upon us at any time. I just hope the Home is still as we left it." Ysgrig murmured.

"I sometimes worry about Valelia, too. She's the Dragonborn, and that makes it her duty to fight off the dragons. I wonder how many she's killed." Sarila wondered aloud. "Well, she killed that one in Whiterun, so we know she's killed at least one of those overgrown lizards." Marcurio deduced. "Still, she's risking her life out there every day, and things aren't getting better. I really hope she can just stop the dragons from destroying us all, and survive to the end of it." Sarila explained.

Ysgrig suddenly stopped and shushed the two. He looked around, listening for any sounds that rang out through the forests. "I heard something. Keep on your guard." He warned, removing his trusty mace from its sheath, Marcurio and Sarila unsheathing their weapons as well.

"Oh, look at you. You've done well at detecting us, but unfortunately for you, your time is running out." A snooty Altmer voice declared. Sarila turned around as three High Elves in Thalmor armor approached them from behind. "Wouldn't you concur, Ytri?" The tallest elf reached out, gently palming the inscribed amulet around Sarila's neck.

 _Oh, dear._


	98. Sacrifice

"We've been looking for you for a decade, Ytri. It's so nice of you to decide to finally show your face once more." The leader of the Thalmor detachment grinned maliciously. "Unfortunately, due to your crimes and your…well, heretical demeanor, I'm afraid we're going to need to take you to Alinor where you will be persecuted, and, might I add, executed."

"You're not taking her anywhere, pointy-ears." Marcurio snarled, grasping his sword tighter in his rough hands. The elf turned to Marcurio, laughing sourly. "What? You're trying to be brave for your girlfriend, here? Everyone knows the Aldmeri Dominion is supreme, and Talos is a fake god."

"You may think Talos is a fake god, but we _know_ that the Aldmeri Dominion is a fake empire." Ysgrig retorted, the Thalmor soldiers angrily unsheathing their weapons. "Then come! Let us see who is supreme. We will dance on your graves, foolish humans!" The leader shouted.

Two of the soldiers cornered Ysgrig, who ran back, mace in hands. "Sarila, Marcurio, I'll be fine! Just…focus on the bastard in front of you!" He shouted, offending the elf of which he spoke. "You'll come to regret this day, fools. I swear it!" A ball of lightning appeared in his hands. "Sarila, get behind me!" Marcurio commanded, and Sarila dashed behind Marcurio. He raised his free hand, a bright shield of magic appearing just as the lightning shot from the soldier's hands. "You can't hold that ward up forever, Imperial!"

"Of course I can't. I'll just wait until you're out of magicka." He smugly grinned. The elf gasped. Marcurio was right. "You're bluffing. I have more magicka. If anyone runs out first, it will be you." He spat, glaring daggers at Marcurio and Sarila, who hid behind him. The Imperial mage chuckled. "Then I suppose we'll see who will come out victorious.

As soon as the words left Marcurio's lips, the Altmer's sparks of lightning stopped, his hands glowing a dim shade of violet. "Marcurio, duck!" Sarila shouted. Marcurio complied, ending his ward spell, and Sarila stabbed the Altmer in the heart with her ebony daggers. The fellow grasped his chest and collapsed, squirming wildly as he slowly died, blood leaking out onto the snow.

Sarila turned her head to see Ysgrig struggling with the other soldier. Arrows were stuck through trees, and little bits of the soldier's shield flew as Ysgrig repeatedly bashed his sword against it. The elf quickly bashed Ysgrig's chest with his shield, and Ysgrig flew back, gasping as he regained his footing. As the elf made a strike that would kill Ysgrig, the auburn raised his sword, and the unexpected collision of their weapons caused the soldier to lose grip on his own sword. The elven sword flew feet away, where Marcurio picked it up.

The Altmer slowly slunk backwards as all three of the humans he had mocked alongside his friends approached him. A split second later, Ysgrig stuck his sword through the soldier's stomach, pulling it out a moment later. He collapsed, gasping for air. He watched Marcurio step over him, and three seconds later, his head rolled away from his body.

The trio sheathed their weapons, satisfied with their work. It hadn't been the toughest battle they'd fought, but it certainly gave each of them a thrilling buzz of adrenaline.

The third soldier had been hiding behind a tree, waiting for the humans to lower their guard. He exhaled, reaching into his leather satchel. He pulled out a red bottle of poison, dipping an arrow into the bottle. He put the cork back in, and nocked the arrow in his bow. He slowly emerged, taking aim for Sarila's heart.

Marcurio heard the quiet, bouncy twang of an arrow being nocked in a bow. He turned to the source and found the final soldier, aiming his arrow at Sarila. Marcurio gasped. He watched the arrow fly from the bow as if it were in slow motion. "NO!"

Marcurio dove for Sarila, tackling her to the ground.

The arrow embedded itself in Marcurio's head, his skull exploding.

Sarila blinked, wiping blood from her face. She couldn't believe what was happening.

Marcurio's eye was over by a tree, his other one was over by some rocks, his brain, or what was left of it, was scattered about as a pool of crimson blood appeared on the snow.

Sarila gently pushed Marcurio's corpse off her, looking at the thick layer of splattered gore coating her body.

Ysgrig's eyes were wide with shock. He looked to where the arrow had come from, and he saw the last Thalmor soldier. The soldier himself looked quite surprised, but nothing compared to the surprise he felt when Ysgrig charged him, sticking his sword through his head. The soldier's body went limp, hitting the ground with a thud.

Ysgrig walked back over to his sister, who was kneeling over Marcurio's body. She picked him up in her arms, tears slowly falling down her cheeks. "Mar…curio?" She hiccupped, more tears streaming down her cheeks. "Oh, Gods." She choked out, caressing what was left of his cheek. "Marcurio…no…no…Gods, no…" She wept, Ysgrig somberly standing by her as she mourned her betrothed.

The forest was silent as Sarila sobbed, cradling her lost love in her arms.


	99. Caught

Sarila had mourned Marcurio, not leaving him for a good two hours. Ysgrig stayed by Sarila, watching her weep. His heart broke at the sight. He had felt that same pain when Chalvia died.

He heard Altmer voices off in the distance. "Sarila, we have to go. The Thalmor are nearby." He warned. "We haven't even buried him yet! We can't just leave him." Sarila cried, holding Marcurio closer to her. Ysgrig sighed. He drew his mace, pressing the top blade into the snow. He moved his weapon around, retracting it when he had finished.

The word 'HERO' had been written in the gleaming snow.

Sarila sniffled and gave Ysgrig a sad smile. "I…thanks. That makes me feel a little better." She mumbled, wiping her eyes.

"I told you I heard something. It's this way."

"That's our cue to get out of here. Come on, sis!" Ysgrig grabbed his sister by the hand, and she quickly got off the ground. She took one last glance back at Marcurio. "I'm sorry. I love you, Marcurio." She mumbled sadly, running away with Ysgrig.

"There they are! Get them!" An Altmer male shouted, pointing at the twins, who were running through the forest. "They've spotted us. Sarila, we have to hurry!" "You think?!" She sarcastically retorted, running faster.

She cried out, clutching her chest as she collapsed. Several bolts of lightning shot through her body, shocking her. She twitched before pushing through the pain. Ysgrig helped her up as he ran by, and Sarila quickly continued running.

She ran in zigzags to avoid the ropes of lighting, spikes of ice, and balls of fire as the Thalmor were gaining on them. She briefly glanced over her shoulder.

 _There's got to be at least a dozen of them…_

Sarila ignored the stinging of lactic acid that built up in her leg muscles and ran, embracing the adrenaline that shot up through her veins. An arrow whizzed by her head, barely missing her. She gave a startled shriek, her legs running faster than before. "Ysgrig, where are we going?!" She asked, not recognizing her surroundings. "Towards the cabin, but we're nowhere near it yet!" He shouted back, ducking to avoid an arrow.

Ysgrig's legs picked up, but he was suddenly grabbed by a Thalmor agent who had hidden by a rock. "NO! GET OFF!" He yelled, punching the agent, who never released his grip. Sarila ran forward, her daggers unsheathed, and she stuck each one into the agent's eyes. Ysgrig fell to the ground with the dead Thalmor agent. He rolled away from the agent, and Sarila quickly helped him up. The twins took off running once more, and the Thalmor soldiers didn't relent in their pursuit.

Ysgrig yelled out in pain, briefly stopping in his tracks before he took off running again. "What happened? What happened?!" Sarila asked, panic in her voice. "Nothing, I'm fine! A fireball just got the edge of my arm." Ysgrig reassured, gritting his teeth. "It just hurts a little bit. The flesh isn't burned or anything, though." He continued.

Before another word was spoken, the twins felt an overwhelming sense of agony grip their bodies, and they fell to the ground, shaking and twitching as their hearts were filled with electricity. They both gasped, the electricity running through their bodies as they squirmed wildly on the ground. Whenever one of them tried to get up, they'd just flop back on their face.

"End of the line, humans. You proved to be a challenge to catch, and for that, we're impressed. You've managed to nearly escape the Aldmeri Dominion, but of course you know," The leader of the Aldmeri detachments crept closer to them. "No one has _ever_ escaped the Aldmeri Dominion, and they never will so long as we're around." He chuckled, shaking his head. "Foolish humans. The Altmer are supreme over men, beastfolk, and other Mer alike." He announced, a symphony of cheers coming from the brigade behind him.

"You might have mentioned that. Quite a few times, actually." Ysgrig sarcastically mumbled. "Oh, quiet now, human. Be a good little pet and come with us." The elf ordered. He shook his head and let out a few more chuckles. "Not that you have much choice, anyway." He quickly added.

Sarila felt something attach to her leg. She looked down to see a rope wrapped tightly around her leg, and the same rope was wrapped around Ysgrig's. "Ysgrig, we have to do what they say. They'll kill us." She whispered tensely. "They'll kill us anyway, sis." He hissed, a hint of fear appearing in his eyes. "Come on, you two. We've got something…special planned out for the likes of you."

 **A/N: Hey, guys. Well, this is it. The end of the story is approaching quicker than a stampede of galloping llamas. It's time for the final special chapter preview…but I think you're going to want to read the special announcement at the end of next chapter. It'll be worth it, I promise.**

"Better pray to Stendarr that it'll be quick and painless, heretical human scum." The leader of the soldiers spat, tying an iron anvil to the rope that bound Sarila and Ysgrig's right and left leg together. "Any last words?" The Altmer asked, looking at the hole in the ice he planned to through the twins into. "Sarila…just in case we don't make it through this, I want you to know—" "In you go!" The Thalmor shouted, pushing the twins into the deep.


	100. Swim, Swim Away

The captured twins were taken out of the forest by the Aldmeri troops. They remained silent unless one of them was specifically asked a question. The two frequently exchanged glances with fear, sorrow, and overwhelmed demeanors.

Marcurio appeared before her, running away from Lyvette, who smiled and laughed as she chased him. Eventually, Lyvette caught him, and Marcurio began to chase her instead. Sarila closed her eyes, reopening them. She was somewhat blinded by tears, but the visions of Lyvette and Marcurio were gone.

 _Why? Why did you have to die?_

She closed her eyes, sighing almost inaudibly as she walked.

 _Why did you have to leave me?_

"So, do either of you mind telling us who killed our three friends back there?" The leader maliciously asked, glaring daggers at the twins. "Us." Sarila blandly answered. "So that was your friend who lay there, dead by one of our arrows." He clarified. "Y-Yeah." Sarila sniffled. "Oh, be quiet. I'm sure he deserved what he got." He huffed.

Sarila furrowed her brows and opened her mouth to snap back at the Thalmor with an offensive comeback, but instead remained silent, giving a small huff of annoyance. She thought it best not to challenge the Altmer anymore, as it hadn't ended well in the past.

 _Oh, Marcurio._

She reached up to wipe away a salty tear that had rolled down her scarred cheek. She briefly looked down at her amulet of Talos. The name 'Ytri' was still clear as ever in the amulet. "She's dead." Sarila mumbled. "Pardon?" The leader asked. "Ytri is dead." Sarila replied, clearer this time. The soldier chuckled. "Oh, we know, Sarila." He grinned at her shock.

 _He knows my name?!_

"How do you know my name?" She asked, Ysgrig surprised as well. "Our scouts have been following you around for days now, human. Not to mention, we found the broken, battered body of Ytri floating upstream in The Rift." Sarila gulped, remembering when she had set Ytri in the water so she could swim free.

"But you wear her amulet. The Aldmeri Dominion has a motto. 'You wear the amulet of Talos, you wear it to your grave.'" He explained, shielding his eyes from the sun as it shined through the graying clouds.

Sarila remained silent, not wanting to speak another word to the uptight elves. The Thalmor had done nothing but cause death, trouble, and destruction in her lifetime, and now, they had caught her, along with her brother. She knew that they were likely to be executed.

"Why are our arms not bound?" Ysgrig curiously asked. Sarila found herself wondering the exact same thing the moment he asked the question. "Because, humans, we know that you won't try to run from us again, or we'll kill you slowly and painfully." He answered, an evil glint in his eyes.

"Fair enough." Ysgrig's shoulders slumped as he walked. "Oh, good. We're almost at our destination." The leader announced, clapping his hands together before ushering the twins along, the brigade in hot pursuit.

Before them was a large lake. It was mostly frozen over, Sarila had noticed.

 _Oh, peachy. They're either going to freeze us to death, drown us, or both._

"Careful on this ice. We don't want any unintentional accidents." The fellow told his soldiers, who all nodded in agreement. Sarila felt someone grab her left hand. She turned around to see Marcurio holding her hand in his, giving her a loving smile. Lyvette appeared on her right side and held her right hand, giggling. Sarila sighed, closing her eyes. When she opened them, the visions of her loved ones were gone.

They all stepped out onto the ice carefully. Slowly, they approached a hole in the ice, and stopped. "End of the line." The leader turned back to his brigade. "Ulunaro, the item, please!" He called. A short Altmer soldier who looked to be about sixteen strolled up to his superior, a large, heavy item that Sarila couldn't identify in his arms. He handed it to his leader, who took it without struggle. "Thank you. You may return to your spot." The elf known as Ulunaro nodded profusely, carefully treading back to his spot in the soldier formation.

"Better pray to Stendarr that it'll be quick and painless, heretical human scum." The leader of the soldiers spat, tying an iron anvil to the rope that bound Sarila and Ysgrig's right and left leg together. "Any last words?" The Altmer asked, looking at the hole in the ice he planned to through the twins into. "Sarila…just in case we don't make it through this, I want you to know—" "In you go!" The Thalmor shouted, pushing the twins into the deep.

Sarila and Ysgrig had taken a deep breath just before they were pushed into the water. The anvil dragged them deeper and deeper into the lake, and the Thalmor soldiers moved out. The leader gave the twins one final glance and maliciously smiled, waving as he joined his brigade.

The water was freezing, and the twins struggled to get the ropes off. Marcurio and Lyvette appeared, swimming down to catch up with Sarila as she and Ysgrig descended. Lyvette giggled, bubbles flying from her mouth, and she pointed at the daggers in Sarila's sheathes. Marcurio pointed at her satchel, mouthing something she couldn't make out.

First, she reached into her satchel, pulling out the first thing her hand could find; the waterbreathing potion her betrothed had given to her. She looked at the small bottle and came to a realization.

 _There's only enough for one._

Ysgrig watched as Sarila pushed the bottle towards his mouth. He would have gasped if he hadn't been underwater, and he pushed her hands away. Sarila glared at her brother, putting up a good fight. She uncorked the bottle quickly and shoved it against his lips. Ysgrig refused to open his mouth, so Sarila grabbed his arm with her free hand and bit him on the wrist. Ysgrig cried out, bubbles flying from his mouth, and Sarila shoved the bottle into his mouth, pouring the waterbreathing potion's contents down his throat.

Ysgrig breathed in. "Sarila! What are you doing?!" Sarila pulled her daggers from their sheathes and began to cut at the rope tying Ysgrig to the anvil. When he was free, she sheathed her daggers. Ysgrig swam downwards to try and cut his sister free, but she shook her head. She lovingly gazed into her dear brother's eyes and put a hand on his shoulder. She reached down and slipped a small object into his pocket. "SARILA! DAMN IT, CUT YOURSELF FREE!" Ysgrig yelled, breathing heavily.

Sarila felt her lungs growing tighter and tighter, and she closed her eyes, opening them once more as she was forced into taking a deep breath. She gasped, freezing water filling her lungs. Ysgrig numbly watched Sarila sink deeper and deeper into the lake.

The last he saw of his sister before she disappeared in the murky waters was her hand waving goodbye.

Ysgrig, angry, hurt, and heartbroken, swam fiercely to the surface, the cold of the icy waters quickly chilling him to the bone, and he could feel the effects of the waterbreathing potion slowly wear off. He reached the surface, pounding roughly on the sheet of ice that trapped him in the water. He took one final deep breath, and the potion wore off. He continued to slam his fists against the ice to no avail. His lungs grew tighter, and they cried out for air that Ysgrig could not give them.

Suddenly, a loud crack was heard, and before Ysgrig could react, a scaly pair of hands had reached into the water and pulled him out. Ysgrig looked up, Reea'th and Caehir standing over him, terror evident on their faces. "Ysgrig. Ysgrig! If you're still alive, nod your head!" Reea'th yelled, shaking Ysgrig wildly. Ysgrig weakly nodded, shuddering and shivering from the cold of the water.

Caehir and Reea'th picked their friend up and ran, Ysgrig blacking out as he was carried to safety.

Ysgrig woke up in front of the cabin's fireplace. His clothes and armor had been peeled off, he'd noticed, and he was completely naked. His red hair was still sopping wet, and he was trapped in a cocoon of blankets. "Look, he's awake." Caehir declared. The Bosmer and Argonian quickly rushed over to see Ysgrig. "Your skin is finally returning to normal." Reea'th smiled slightly. "We really thought you weren't coming back." He added.

Caehir chewed on the back of his thumb, something he tended to do when anxious. "We…we saw everything. When you, Sarila, and Marcurio didn't come back…we'd assumed you were in trouble." He told his freezing friend. "W-What…what happened?!" Caehir asked, his voice breaking slightly. "Marcurio…I…a Thalmor soldier we didn't see had tried to shoot Sarila with an arrow, but Marcurio saw. He tackled her to the ground, and he just…he took the arrow." Ysgrig licked his lips, tears forming in his emerald eyes.

"And…Sarila, she…there was only enough for one of us…Marcurio gave her a waterbreathing potion, but there was enough for just one of us. She forced it down my throat when we were sinking and cut my rope, but…she refused to cut her own." He took a moment to wipe away the tears that were beginning to roll down his cheeks. "It was a suicide. Lyvette and Marcurio…they were too much for her to take." Ysgrig was crying by now, rivers of tears flooding his eyes and dripping down his face. "Just…WHY?!" He punched the ground, not even flinching when his hand had started to bleed.

He suddenly remembered something. "Where are my clothes?" He asked. "Over on the table." Reea'th pointed towards the sopping wet clothes that had been piled on the table. Ysgrig got up, wrapping the blankets tightly around his nude form so he didn't flash his friends by mistake. He walked over to the table and poked around in the pocket Sarila had placed an object in.

He pulled out Sarila's Luna-Moth engraved ring.

He closed his teary eyes, sighing as he closed his hand around the last object he had to remember his sister by. He parted his chapped lips to speak.

"Damn it, Sarila."

 **A/N: *wipes eyes* Well…it's finally done. *blows nose in tissue* But, on a more positive note…I've got a surprise for you. Don't worry; this one is good. I'm adding a** _ **final,**_ **final chapter. It's going to be a bonus chapter. It'll have all sorts of deleted bits of the story that I was going to include, but ended up scrapping them. Aaaaand…there's a big surprise at the end. I HIGHLY recommend you read it. If you don't read the bonus info, AT LEAST read the end. I promise, it'll be worth it.**

 **But anyway, thank you all for reading this story. It only took me a year and a few months to write. Wow. Much love and appreciation, bless your socks, bless your pants, bless your shirts, bless your everythings. Peace.**


	101. Bonus Chapter

~The story's original name was going to be "Bloodstained Memories", referencing Sarila's past as a young girl on her family farm. Her innocent past was stained with the blood of her parents, the Thalmor soldiers who had attacked, Terdel, and Ysgrig, who she presumed was dead.  
-The title was changed to "Where The Cold Awaits" to reference Sarila's inevitable death in the icy depths of a frozen lake.

~When I was first writing the story, I made Sarila as a Skyrim character and played the game from her point of view. I also created several other characters from the story using the creation kit, such as Lyvette, Valelia, Ysgrig, and Ytri.

~In the very first stage of development, Sarila was the Dragonborn. Valelia was later added, which changed the outcome of the story completely.

~Sarila's eyes were originally a shocking blue, but eventually changed to violet to add diversity in the character's physical traits.

~Sarila was originally going to join the Stormcloaks early on in the story.

~I had planned for Sarila to die the moment I started writing the script. Her death was scripted to be the chapter before the last, with the last chapter being the other characters' speculations on her demise. However, I eventually pushed her death back to the very last chapter.

~Lyvette's death was being planned out when chapter 25 was released.

-Lyvette's death was almost deleted due to how gruesome and shocking the death of the little girl would be, however, I went through with the plan anyway.

~Sarila's character was designed to be the exact opposite of my first OC, Aliras. Aliras is a merciless killer who robs both friends and foes. If a person came into her view, she would have her morbid, twisted heart set on killing them until their lifeless body hit the floor in a shower of blood. Sarila, however, is kindhearted, gentle, and fears killing. She doesn't kill her first human until she's 18, and it's for the purpose of protecting Lyvette. Sarila and Aliras are polar opposites; even their names spell each other's when spelled backwards. Aliras has blue eyes, Sarila has violet ones. The two have three things in common, though; their long, golden hair, their Nord blood, and their orphaned statuses.

~Originally, Ysgrig was scripted to die in the Thalmor attack on the family farm, and Ytri was scripted to survive the forest and reappear, but their alive and dead statuses were switched, which changed major events in the story.

~In the first stages of development, Sarila had a twin sister, Ariki, and Ysgrig was their younger brother. Ysgrig would have died, and Ariki was intended to escape the farm alongside Sarila and survive with her and Ytri, but Ariki was deleted, and Ysgrig replaced her as Sarila's twin.

~Lyvette was supposed to survive and grow up alongside Ysgrig's son, though this changed in final story scripting, and her death occurred in the Temple of Xrib in Sightless Pit.

~Lyvette was almost cut out of the story, since I was worried it would seem unrealistic for a child to survive on her own for so long and that no one would really like her, but out of the people I asked, Lyvette is one of the most liked characters of the story, the others being Sarila, Chalvia, Valelia, and Ysgrig.

~While Sarila was doing her special job for the Thieves Guild in Whiterun, Lyvette was supposed to meet Lars Battle-Born and befriend him. Eventually, the two kissed, and Lyvette started a brief romance with her childhood crush. This was cut out of the story when I decided that Lyvette should help Sarila with her job, and instead, she met Dagny in Dragonsreach.

~Several characters' deaths were hinted at throughout the story, along with the causes of death.  
-Sarila's death by suicide and drowning was hinted at when Mercer Frey tried to drown her in the river where they had a fight. Later, after Mercer was killed in Irkngthand, the cave flooded, and everyone swam upwards into a pipe. Sarila's legs gave out while swimming, though, and Ysgrig had to go back and save her. He tells her that he would never let her drown, which also alludes to the fact that Sarila sacrificed herself for him and, out of extreme grief over the loss of Lyvette and Marcurio, committed suicide by not allowing Ysgrig to help her, forcing him to let her drown. Her death is also reminiscent of Ytri telling her to keep on swimming while she was being washed away in the currents of a river as a child, as seen in chapter 28, and is also reminiscent of Sarila's departing words to Ytri's dead body as she released her into the stream.  
-Kharjo's death was very subtly hinted at when he immediately risked himself to save Lyvette from the frostbite spider that attacked her in the forest. He later risks himself to save her from the Falmer's arrow, and ends up causing his own demise.  
-Lyvette's death was hinted at, by far, the most out of any other character. In chapter 32, Lyvette clumsily tumbles backwards off her bed. Sarila jokingly responds, saying that Lyvette's constant falling will be the death of her. Lyvette also falls down multiple times throughout the story. When Lyvette has the nightmare of Sarila, Mercer, Valelia, and Karliah in Snow Veil Sanctum, she expresses intense fear of being shot with an arrow. Sarila reassures her and promises that no one will ever shoot her with an arrow, but Sarila is eventually the one to put Lyvette down with a merciful arrow to the skull. In Irkngthand, when the Falmer aims his bow and arrow specifically at Lyvette, this hints two things; that a Falmer would play a role in her death, and that an arrow would eventually kill her.  
-Qattindra's death was hinted at, and if you squinted, you could really tell what was going to happen. When Sarila asked Qattindra how she and Caehir got the willpower to hunt so many awful beasts, Qattindra replies: "Well, it's like I always say; butcher, or be butchered." Not even a full day after she arrives at Windhelm with Ysgrig, Sarila, Caehir, and Mattha, she gets murdered by the serial killer of Windhelm known as The Butcher. -Marcurio's death was hinted at very subtly. In chapter 84, Marcurio lovingly tells Sarila that he would get himself killed before he'd let Sarila die, and in chapter 98, Marcurio made a quickly-determined decision to sacrifice himself to save Sarila's life.

-Finally, a whole bunch of deaths were hinted at in Sarila's speech to Valelia in chapter 86.

*"It's alright to be scared, Valie. I was scared eight months ago, but now I'm stronger. I'm still scared of things like dragons, death of loved ones, and death of myself, but I still push myself. We just have to hold our heads up and brave the things that come our way, and if we have to take a fall, make a shot, or dive into danger, then so be it, but we can't just let ourselves drown in worries. We have to give ourselves up to our fears so our other half can live through it, but also overcome them at the same time."*

Sarila mentions she was scared of the death of loved ones (hinting at Lyvette and Marcurio's deaths) and the death of herself (self-explanatory). She says that they have to hold their heads up and be brave, and if they have to take a fall and make a shot (Lyvette's death) or dive into danger (Marcurio's death), then they would just have to deal with it. She also adds that they can't let themselves drown in worries (subtly hinting Sarila's death) and that they have to give themselves up to their fears (again, her fears are the deaths of her loved ones and the death of herself) so their other half (Sarila's other half being Ysgrig, her twin) could live through it, but also overcome their fears at the same time.

~The Home originally included an Imperial female named Gesila Fraennius, however, she was scrapped, and Chalvia took her place.

~Gesila and Marcurio were originally intended to have a relationship before Gesila was replaced with Chalvia, who ended up with Ysgrig, and Marcurio entered his romance with Sarila. Ysgrig was supposed to have a relationship with Qattindra until Chalvia was added to the story.

~Sarila was originally intended to be the one who was shot with Karliah's arrow, but Valelia was implemented into the Thieves' Guild at later planning stages, so she took Sarila's place.

~Sarila's first human kill was originally intended to be Mercer Frey.

~Marcurio wasn't scripted to die at all in the original parts of the story, and his death was a completely spontaneous decision in the final script.

~Qattindra's death was scripted into the story the night before her death chapter was written.

~Kharjo's death wasn't originally scripted; there was a written scene where he leaves the story in chapter 32.

-Sarila watched Kharjo wistfully gaze at his moon amulet, sorrow on his face. "I miss them. The caravan. They were not always quiet and peaceful, but this one thinks of them as family." Kharjo sighed as he clasped his amulet back around his neck. Sarila nodded in understanding and put a hand on his shoulder. "Go to them, Kharjo. You've helped us in more ways than you can imagine. Remember us fondly, as we will remember you." Sarila smiled. Kharjo returned a sad smile and stood up from his chair. His whiskers twitched as his smile widened. "This one will miss you all." He whispered as he hugged Sarila. The two pulled away, and Kharjo began to walk to the stairs of the inn. He stopped and looked at Sarila for a brief moment, casting another smile to her. "May your road lead you to warm sands." Sarila quoted, giving a small wave. Kharjo grinned at the woman's kind words, and he walked down the stairs of the Bee and Barb for the final time before he returned to his caravan in the wilds of Skyrim.-

~Kharjo and Omir were scripted to be long lost brothers, and were intended to reunite in chapter 32, though plans changed.

~At one point, there was a fight scene between Mattha and Omir. Mattha was originally going to kill Omir in this fight, but the plans changed and Omir was intended to kill Mattha instead. Eventually, the idea was scrapped entirely, but I incorporated the fight scene (though less severely) in chapter 96's flashback.

~Caehir was supposed to die when he and Qattindra fought the mammoth in chapter 27. His death was deleted because it was too soon after he'd been introduced to the story and he would play a major role in the later chapters, so his death was replaced with a slice on Qattindra's arm.

~At one point in the story, Sarila would have been recognized as Ytri's accomplice in Windhelm, and gotten arrested on account of Ytri's criminal record. Sarila would have broken out with the help of Lyvette, who supplied her with lockpicks she'd found in a thief cache and asked to visit Sarila in prison. This was scrapped due to the fact that Sarila's character development had progressed immensely, and she would have been determined enough to rescue herself before Lyvette had even heard of her arrest.

~Chalvia was intended to survive her childbirth, and her son, Kyrike, was scripted to die shortly after.

~Sa'etha, who delivered the originally deceased son, was overcome with guilt of the child's death, and she fell into depression for the rest of the story.  
-"I can't believe I let that boy die." Sa'etha mumbled, taking a swig of her wine. "Master Metian Septianos would be repulsed by me. I've let everyone down, and that child's blood permanently stains my hands."-

~The death of Chalvia's son would have left a growing bitterness between Chalvia and Sa'etha.

~Valelia was originally going to have a home in Skyrim with her parents, though this was changed later on.

~Valelia was actually supposed to have almost no time and no role in the story at all. She was originally going to have her own story that coincided with the time frame of _Where The Cold Awaits,_ but the decision was scrapped altogether.

~Mattha's death was completely spontaneous, and was written into the story on a whim.

~Reea'th was going to die from his illness, however, since two of the residents of the Home had just died, this decision was scrapped.

~I had never planned for Sarila and Marcurio to become engaged, but I thought it would be a nice addition to the story.

~At one point, I had considered writing a scene where Marcurio and Caehir teamed up to rescue Kyrike from a falling tree in a storm, but I dismissed the idea, as I needed to add character development for the upcoming deaths.

~The last name of Sarila's family was originally Stone-Spear, but was later changed to Cairn-Spring.

~Most of the names of the OC's were generated by the Skyrim Name Generator. Omir, Caehir, Qattindra, Reea'th, Mattha, Sa'etha, Fridki, Battori, Ysgrig, and Lyvette were all generated. Sarila, Chalvia, Kyrike, Ytri, Terdel, and Valelia all had original names.

~The title cover of the story was originally a picture of Sarila and Lyvette walking through the forests of The Rift, a bear lumbering towards them. However, the screenshot was somehow lost, so I did a photo shoot with Sarila on top of the Throat of The World. I used weather effects to make the sky like Sovngarde, and I dressed her up in a white lace dress, heels, and stockings from a mod, and made her wield her ebony dagger. I used the 'tfc' command to fly to a good angle where it looked like Sarila was gazing up at the skies of Sovngarde. This scene was scripted into the story in chapter 90.

~I was indecisive about what kind of dagger Sarila should start out with, so I decided by pure chance. I got a six-sided die and a piece of paper. I marked down a few numbers and dagger types.  
If I rolled a one, she would wield a steel dagger.  
If I rolled a two, she would wield a glass dagger.  
If I rolled a three, she would wield an ebony dagger.  
If I rolled a four, she would wield an Elven dagger.  
If I rolled a five, she would wield a dwarven dagger.  
If I rolled a six, she would wield a daedric dagger.  
I cast the die, and it landed on a three. Sarila was promptly given an ebony dagger to help her on her journey through Skyrim.

 **A/N: And, at long last, I'm finally going to present you with the surprise I mentioned last chapter. Feast your peepers on this!**

"I don't know how much longer we can go on like this, Ysgrig." Reea'th worriedly told his friend. "It's been eighteen years, and dragons are popping up everywhere. Maybe we really are a doomed people." "Don't talk like that. Valelia will come through. She always has." Ysgrig replied, feeling the beard on his chin out of habit.

"Damn, where are the authorities and patrols in all this?" Caehir irately grumbled, pulling his sword out of the dead bandit's chest. "They're where they always are; in the cities." Sa'etha mumbled, looking down at the corpses of the bandits that were strewn about. "I'm starting to wonder how long it'll be before we have to move out of the Home for good."

Valelia panicked, struggling to pull her arm away from the angry marauder. "I'm sick of you people, trying to 'restore justice to Skyrim'. No one survives out here anymore by being honest and legitimate. Those people are dead, and they aren't coming back." He spat in the woman's face. She wiped her face with her free arm, all the while trying to free the arm that was being grasped in the marauder's hand. "They won't come back if you keep killing us!" She retorted. "Don't talk back to me, you little bitch!" He snarled, pulling a dwarven sword from its sheath. The rapping on the door quickened at the sound of a weapon being unsheathed. "You're going to pay the ultimate price. I'll make sure you learn your lesson; to never mess with me or my boys again!"

"Ysgrig, help!" Caehir cried as the bear sunk its teeth into his leg. "GAH! YSGRIG!" Ysgrig dashed over to the Bosmer and stabbed the bear through the eye with his sword. It gave an anguished roar, releasing Caehir from his teeth. Caehir grasped his leg before hurriedly limping back into the Home. The enraged bear growled fiercely, scaring the nearby birds from the trees. The furry beast lunged for Ysgrig, who fell over on his back. The bear bounded towards him, but stopped in its tracks when a katana shot through its head. It fell to the ground, blood pouring from its body. Ysgrig's eyes trailed up the katana and the katana's hilt until he got an eyeful of the beholder. **"Thank the Gods. It's you."**

 **Well, there you have it! The surprise is…you guessed it…**

 **The preview for the upcoming sequel that I never announced! YAY!**

 **Be sure to keep an eye out for the sequel. I haven't decided the title yet, but I've already started the script.**

 **Thank you SO much for reading this story, guys. Really, it means a lot. Peace.**


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